Jean Dupont
by CurvyPragmatist
Summary: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

"Non non! Stupide!" the dark haired French man complained bitterly to his laptop as the video he had been watching started to flicker. He rolled his brown eyes and lifted the laptop from his chest and stood from his laying down position on the sofa while swaying the laptop wildly in the air in an attempt to recapture the illusive signal.

As he stood up some half eaten snacks fell from his dishevelled t-shirt onto the floor and he stepped over the crumbs as he walked around the small Parisian apartment with his laptop at arms-length. He mumbled a few choice curse words under his breath as he circled the sofa around and around in an attempt to get the last ten minutes of the video he had already wasted twenty two minutes of his life on.

In the background was the quiet murmur of the television which was always on. Samuel Durand didn't like silence, he had to have either the television or the radio on all the time he was home so he felt connected to the world. Without that connection he felt so lost, which was why the sudden loss of Internet connectivity was so frustrating to him.

On the fourth circle of the sofa something on the television caught his eye and he gasped and dropped the laptop onto the sofa and dropped to his knees in front of the screen as he mashed his finger on the volume button to make the commentary audible. He had missed the majority of the piece but he understood it was something to do with Paris fashion week which had been taking place.

In the last few seconds of the broadcast a beautiful white-haired woman with an indifferent pout was seen getting into a luxurious looking limousine, the excitable reporter named her as "Miranda Priestly". Samuel stared with an open mouth at the screen and then scrambled back to his laptop, closing down the video he had been watching and quickly started typing the name into Google.

* * *

><p>"So, there's the gala tonight and the table plan is in your room for your final approval as you requested and then your car arrives tomorrow at ten o'clock to take you to Charles de Gaulle Airport. I'll have checked out earlier to get the Guerlain samples that you requested for the girls so I'll meet you at the airport at quarter to eleven," Emily said quickly and professionally. Technically she didn't need to say anything because she knew Miranda knew the schedule back to front but the redheaded woman felt the need to fill the interminable silence that filled the back of the limousine as it took them back to the hotel.<p>

"Hmm," Miranda murmured as she looked over the top of her glasses at the passing Paris scenery.

Emily's mobile rang and she answered immediately with a silent thank you to God for a wonderfully timed distraction, "Yes?"

The young woman dramatically rolled her eyes and shook her head in dismay, "look, I have told you before, Miranda will not be doing any interviews. If you wanted to speak with her there was a perfectly acceptable five minute window at the end of the Hermès preview."

Miranda could hear an animated male voice with a thick French accent speaking before Emily loudly interrupted him, "I have no idea what you are talking about but no, absolutely not, now don't call this number again!"

Emily hung up and loudly huffed before she put her phone back into her bag as she muttered, "bloody French.."

Miranda turned to Emily and quietly enquired, "problem?"

Emily blushed slightly, "er, no, not at all, Miranda. You know what it is like with journalists, they never read the press guidelines we send out, I really don't know why I bother! That.. man.. in particular is very annoying, he has been calling me here and Claudia in New York for most of the day."

Miranda looked at Emily and appeared to be debating replying when she simply sighed and turned her head to continue looking out of the window of the car. Emily rolled her eyes and turned away as well, while she was ecstatically happy to finally be attending Paris fashion week, albeit a year later than she had planned, she was really tiring of so much Miranda time. She took a deep, cleansing breath and reminded herself that there was only one more night and then they would all be back on the way to New York.

* * *

><p>At precisely one minute to ten the next morning Miranda Priestly stepped a Valentino heeled foot out of the Shangri-La hotel and nodded her head to the doorman in the knee-length dark green overcoat. He smiled and bowed his head politely before turning to his colleague and gesturing for him call for a limousine to drive through the wrought iron gates and into the hotel's driveway.<p>

Miranda sighed a bored sigh and watched as the car slowly turned and began to pull up to the stone pathway.

"Excusez-moi Madame Priestly!" a male voice called from behind her, she turned to see a scruffy looking French man running towards her from the side gate of the hotel. He had medium length dark hair which he had clearly decided didn't require combing and was wearing dark blue faded jeans and a red t-shirt with the word "Bazinga" emblazoned on it in a childish font. He was holding some scruffy pieces of paper and was being followed by another Shangri-La doorman.

With a bored look Miranda turned around and noticed her car had finally pulled up to a stop in front of her and the driver was in the process of opening the rear passenger door for her. With a slight more speed than she would normally bother with she got into the back seat of the car and the driver closed the door and returned to the front of the vehicle.

The scruffy French man was now approaching the car and was attempting to dodge the doormen as he shouted out towards Miranda, "excusez-moi!"

Miranda waited patiently for the driver to get into the front seat of the car and was about to instruct him to drive when she heard a thump on the glass of the window. She turned to look and her mouth fell open in shock as she saw the French man was holding a Polaroid photograph up to the window. The photograph was an amateur shot of Andrea Sachs. However there were differences between the Andrea Sachs who had walked away from her in Paris exactly one year ago and the woman in the photograph. The photographed woman had short hair, almost a male cut which Miranda couldn't help but dislike but the more shocking part of the image was the unresponsiveness from the subject. Her eyes no longer sparkled, there was a dullness to them that Miranda had never seen before, her beautiful white skin seemed somehow paler and almost transparent in its weakness and while the woman in the picture smiled it was forced, frightened and unsure and not at all like the Andrea Sachs who had walked away a year ago.

As quickly as the photograph had been slapped onto the glass it was pulled away as the two doormen each grabbed an arm of the dishevelled intruder and hauled him off of the car.

Miranda was stunned motionless until she felt the brake being lifted from the car and she was spurred into action, "wait!"

The driver slammed the brakes back on and Miranda opened the door and stepped out just as the doormen had the man on the floor as he fought for freedom from them.

"You know them?" he asked Miranda as he calmed and stopped fighting the green coated assailants.

Miranda nodded and indicated to the doormen that they should let him go. She sucked in the side of her cheek and looked the young man up and down before indicating the car with her head, "get in."


	2. Chapter 2

The limousine pulled away and the scruffy French man attempted to make himself less scruffy by pulling down the hem of his appallingly coloured t-shirt, "merci.." he said as he struggled to get his breath back.

Miranda just stared at him, eyeing him up as if wondering what to make of him, "comment tu t'appelles?"

"My name is Samuel Durand," he answered in English but with a thick French accent, "I cannot believe I saw you on the screen with Jean and now I am here talking to you!"

"Jean?" Miranda questioned, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable with the turn of events and wondering quite what was happening.

"Jean Dupont," Samuel answered, "er, as you say, Jane Doe? No?"

Miranda stared at Samuel in confusion and he fished the Polaroid photograph out of his paperwork and handed it to the older woman, "Jane Doe, for someone with no name?"

She hesitantly took the photography from his hand as if afraid that taking possession of the terrible image might somehow make it a reality. She held it lightly in her lap and looked at it and was surprised at the deep feelings of turmoil she felt.

Samuel seemed to realise that he was not going to get an answer from the woman and carried on with his story regardless, "I am a freelance journalist and my friend at the hospital told me of an American with no memory so I went to interview her. They called her Jean, she was brought into the hospital a year ago, six months later I interviewed her. She was in an accident of some sort, her head," he tried to explain but his language skills prevented him from saying what he wanted so he veered around the subject, "the authorities tried to locate her family and contacted the American embassy but nothing. I told her I would try to help her but I could not find anything. I had almost given up but I saw you on the news and some old footage showed Jean with you.."

"Andréa," Miranda interrupted quietly, "her name is Andréa."

Samuel looked puzzled, "then she is French, her parents maybe?"

Miranda looked up from the photograph with confusion before she realised he was referring to the pronunciation of the name, "no, she's America, she would pronounce her name Andrea."

"Ah, I see," Samuel nodded although he really didn't see at all, "do you want to see her now?"

Despite the fact that Miranda felt her mind rushing at one hundred miles per hour it hadn't occurred to her Andrea was still in France, the photograph seemed to freeze-frame a moment from time gone by rather than a present day event.

"We can go to the hospital now?" Samuel pushed gently as he realised the older woman was having a great deal of difficulty understanding the situation.

"She.." Miranda stuttered uncharacteristically, "she's still in hospital?"

"Oui," Samuel replied and watched as Miranda's eyes fell back to the photograph. He looked up at the driver and called out to him and gave him directions to the hospital.

Miranda stared at the picture as she felt the long vehicle lurch slightly to the side as the driver did a u-turn, coincidentally the longer she looked at the picture the more she felt her stomach lurch. The anger she had been holding towards Andrea crumbled like an autumn leaf and gave way to guilt. When Andrea had gone missing twelve months ago Miranda had initially felt heartbreak and betrayal but that quickly gave way to fury. She had to admit she was surprised to not hear from the young brunette, she had expected word to get back that the woman was looking for new employment but nothing had been heard.

As the weeks and months passed Miranda simply assumed that Andrea had wisely chosen to set up in another state or even another country to avoid Miranda's wrath. Even though the truth was that Miranda would still have given Andrea a glowing recommendation. She may have left her post in the middle of the most important event in the most important week in the fashion calendar but she had been the best assistant Miranda had ever had. Still, for twelve months nothing was heard and life had carried on.

But now Miranda realised that something terrible had happened, maybe even that very night when she was cursing Andrea's very existence as she packed her own suitcase to prepare to fly back to New York. Something had happened and Andrea had been injured, vulnerable, in need of help but none came. Miranda felt a tear track down her pale cheek and quickly wiped it away and handed the photograph back to Samuel before staring resolutely ahead and attempting to compose herself.

Beside her Samuel was on his mobile phone animatedly speaking in French. While Miranda was not entirely fluent in French she certainly knew enough to understand that he was speaking with the hospital and advising them that he had found a friend of Jean's. Miranda almost laughed out loud at the very thought, her being Andrea's friend when, in truth, she was probably the very last person in the world Andrea would really want to see.

* * *

><p>As the limousine pulled up outside the hospital Miranda took a deep and steadying breath to try to contain the horrible feeling of nerves that was building up inside her. Samuel opened his car door and ran around the car to open Miranda's door as well. The young man was clearly in a hurry to get the two women reacquainted but Miranda, who had never dawdled in her life, suddenly felt a desire to move at a snail's pace.<p>

Unfortunately for Miranda she was far outnumbered as two women rushed out of the main entrance of the hospital and began speaking with Samuel. One of the women was clearly a doctor, she was in her late forties and wore a light grey suit topped with a crisp, white medical coat. She had greying blonde hair that was swept back into a tight bun which revealed a kindly face which was smiling broadly at the sight of Miranda as she spoke with Samuel. The other women was much younger and wore a dark blue nurses outfit, as soon as she saw Samuel she pulled him into a giant hug and the two swayed back and forth before she released him and he started explaining what had happened.

"Mrs Priestly," the doctor said as she held out her hand which Miranda gently took and shook, "my name is Doctor Fontaine, but please call me Charlotte."

Miranda smiled as kindly as she could, "thank you, please call me Miranda."

Charlotte nodded and gestured for Miranda to follow her back into the hospital, "Samuel tells me that you know Jean?"

Miranda bristled slightly at the name, "Andréa, yes, I do."

Charlotte nodded in understanding, she had worked with brain trauma and amnesia patients for many years and she knew the loved ones found it equally traumatic, especially when the identity of the patient was in question.

As they walked through the corridors Charlotte gently probed, "how is it that you know Andréa?"

"She was my assistant," Miranda said briefly, not wishing to be drawn into any small talk. She just wanted to see Andréa as soon as possible.

"I see," Charlotte replied, "and why was she in France?"

"Fashion week," Miranda replied, "she travelled with me to Paris for the previews."

Charlotte frowned slightly, "but she did not travel back to America with you?"

Miranda paused briefly before she answered, "Andréa terminated her employment with my magazine during the previews. We didn't see her again."

"I see, was there a disagreement?" Charlotte pressed.

Miranda stopped walking and turned to face the doctor, "no, there was not a disagreement, do you intend to continue this cross-examination of me?"

"I'm afraid so, yes," Charlotte said, surprising Miranda greatly, "Jean.. I apologise, Andréa is under my care and has been for twelve months. She was admitted with a serious head injury and no memory, no identification, nothing. With no medical background to go on it was difficult to treat her, we are still unsure of the reason for her memory loss. I need to find out if psychological trauma was a factor in her accident or her loss of memory."

Miranda briefly closed her eyes and nodded her understanding, "I apologise, I understand. Andréa decided to leave us last year, during fashion week. I don't completely understand why, one moment she was there and the next she was gone. We never heard from her again and we just assumed that she had left. It was quite a shock when Monsieur Durand showed me her photograph."

"Yes," Charlotte nodded sympathetically, "I can understand. So, you do not know of any accident or any medical history that could explain her amnesia?"

Miranda shook her head, "absolutely not, she was perfectly fit and healthy when I last saw her."

Charlotte turned and continued to walk up the corridor and Miranda followed her, "have you ever spoken with someone with memory loss?"

"No," Miranda said, "I'm afraid my knowledge is drawn solely from television and film which I assume is not entirely accurate?"

Charlotte laughed gently, "you are right, unfortunately they are not at all accurate. I should warn you that it can be very difficult to speak with someone with no memory of you."

Miranda nodded, "I'm sure. Is her memory likely to return?"

"It is difficult to say," Charlotte admitted, "it is very unusual, the type of memory loss she has. Usually with brain trauma we see that future memories do not stick in the brain but previous memories are undamaged. However with Andréa we see the other way around, her previous memories are gone. Despite what you see in media this is very rare. There was a brain injury so we presume this was the cause of the memory loss but we cannot be sure, she could have lost her memory and then walked into a road and been hit causing the brain injury. We cannot know what came first."

"Was she in a road accident?" Miranda asked.

"We believe so, she was brought in after being found by a police officer on the side of the road," Charlotte said.

Miranda clenched her fist at the thought of Andréa being left by the side of the road in that condition.

"There are no medicines that can cure memory loss," Charlotte continued, "so it is a matter of whether or not the brain will repair itself. Or if it can. The part of the brain that contained those memories may have been damaged or it may have even disappeared because of the damage. We know very little about the brain and especially the memory centres so it is very difficult to say."

Miranda nodded her understanding as the two women approached a closed door with a circular window that looked into a room filled with patients in hospital gowns. Some were watching television, others were sat at tables engaged in various activities.

"Please, follow my lead," Charlotte said as she opened the door and they entered the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your patience while I staggered these first three chapters. I know that it seemed like I was being a tease but I promise that it's not the case, I honestly feel that these pieces need to be released separately and slowly in order to be fully immersed in the story. I intend for this to be a long story and the next chapters will be longer as we explore the storyline further.

Also I'd like to apologise for my awful French skills as well as my woeful lack of medical knowledge in this area. Dramatic licence will have to cover both!

* * *

><p>As soon as the taxi arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport Emily threw open the passenger door and dragged Nigel from the backseat of the car, "oh my God, Miranda has gone AWOL!"<p>

Nigel straightened his waistcoat and thanked the driver as he took a suitcase from the car and placed it beside him.

"Hold on," he told the Brit as he paid the driver, "what, exactly, are you talking about?"

"Miranda," Emily repeated as she scrolled through her smartphone, "her driver didn't show up, I called him but he hardly speaks any English and all I could get was that she was dropped off somewhere."

"Okay," Nigel said with a frown, "have you tried calling her?"

"Of course I have," Emily sighed as she looked at him, "no answer."

Nigel shrugged his shoulders, "well, that's up to her, she'll call you when she's ready. Come on, let's get checked in."

He lifted the handle of his suitcase and began walking towards the main terminal as Emily fell into step behind him.

* * *

><p>Miranda followed Doctor Fontaine through the patient's room in the hospital and towards a table in the far corner. One of the four chairs at the table was occupied by a shadow of her former assistant who was reading a tatty copy of Moby Dick. Luckily they had approached the brunette from behind and therefore Andréa didn't see the haunted look on Miranda's face. Just like in the photograph Andréa had very short hair, her frame looked thin and her normally healthy skin had lost its glow.<p>

Charlotte took a seat opposite Andrea and motioned for Miranda to sit between them, "bonjour, Jean, how are you today?"

Andrea smiled brightly as she put her book down on the table, "I'm good, thank you," she replied. While it was a simple enough exchange Miranda was surprised at how unsettling the conversation was, how surreal it all seemed. Andréa didn't seem herself, she hadn't given Miranda a second look, her words said that she was well but the very nature of her surroundings and even the tone of her voice contradicted that.

"Bon," Charlotte replied before gesturing to Miranda, "this is Miranda."

Andrea looked at Miranda and held out her hand, "nice to meet you."

Miranda stalled for a brief second before holding shaking hands, "likewise," she said simply.

Andrea looked back at Charlotte for clarification of what was going on while Miranda glanced down at her own hand realising that that was probably the first time she had ever come into direct contact with Andrea.

"Do you recognise Miranda?" Charlotte asked casually.

Andrea looked at Miranda with a puzzled expression for a few brief moments before a smile eventually broke out and covered her face. Miranda felt her heart soar as she felt for sure that Andrea had recognised her.

"Oh I'm sorry!" Andrea said brightly, "I don't remember anything from before a year ago, I had an accident. Did we meet?"

Miranda felt her face form a smile, it was a smile that someone gives to protect themselves, the 'it's okay' smile. When just beneath the surface of that smile she felt her heart break in two with sadness at the terrible situation.

Before Miranda had a chance to answer Charlotte spoke again, "do you think you've met?"

Andrea looked at Miranda again with the same bright smile but Miranda could see the smile didn't quite make its way to her eyes. After sometime Andréa shook her head and looked at Charlotte with a sad shake of the head, "I don't know, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise," Charlotte smiled warmly, "I'm going to leave you two to get reacquainted. Let me know if you need anything."

Before Miranda had a chance to say anything Charlotte had stood up and was walking away from the table. Miranda watched her leave before turning back to face Andrea and opened her mouth to speak before closing it again.

"So," Andrea said, "do you.. do you know me?"

"Yes," Miranda practically whispered as she stared at the young woman in front of her.

"Can you.. tell me.. about.. well, me?" Andrea asked softly.

Miranda gently shook the cobwebs from her mind before nodding slightly, "of course, your name is Andréa Sachs. Well, I call you Andréa but I suppose you would say Andrea. Or.. Andy."

Andrea's eyes went wide as she took in this new information, "Andréa," she whispered a few times.

Miranda watched with astonishment as the young woman in front of her played with pronunciations of her own name as if the word was entirely foreign to her.

After a few moments Andrea's eyes reached up, "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"Miranda, Miranda Priestly," the older woman answered.

"Andréa," the young woman muttered again, "Miranda Priestly and Andréa.. what was it, Sachs?"

Miranda nodded.

Andrea nodded and stared at the table while in deep thought as if attempting to conjure up some memory with these new pieces of information. After a few moments she shook her head in frustration, "no, nothing, I'm so sorry."

Miranda's hand darted across the table and captured Andrea's hand and held it softly, "don't apologise, there is absolutely no need for you to be sorry."

Andrea smiled and gently squeezed the soft hand before it was retracted as quickly as it had arrived.

"So, are you, I mean, are we.. related? Or?.." Andrea drifted off.

"We.. worked together," Miranda said simply.

When Andrea realised Miranda wasn't going to elaborated she continued, "er.. may I ask where?"

Miranda gave herself another mental shake and pulled herself further out of her comfort zone, "Runway, it's an internationally famous fashion magazine and I am the New York Editor in Chief and you were my second assistant."

Andrea's expression was akin to if someone had told her she was an astronaut and she almost looked like she wanted to giggle at the ridiculous notion of it all. Eventually that information seemed to sink in and she nodded, "so, I'm a fashion person?"

Miranda softly laughed at the concept of that, "no, you're most definitely not a fashion person, Andréa. You came to work for me because you were interested in writing.. in journalism. Runway was your only option to get a position in the publishing industry."

Andrea smiled, "phew, I thought I'd lost more than my memory for a moment there! I mean I can tell you're into all that fashion stuff but not me!"

With only a tiny wince Miranda allowed the use of the word 'stuff' to wash over her and was about to reply when Andrea suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth in realisation, "you're my boss!"

A nod, "yes, I am.. well," Miranda hesitated before continuing, "yes, I am your boss."

"And you have two assistants?" Andrea questioned.

"Yes," Miranda nodded.

"So you're kinda a big deal?" Andrea questioned further.

Miranda shook her hand to wave away the question, "never mind any of that, we need to focus on you, Andréa."

Andrea took a moment to take that in before looking up seriously and asking, "do I have any family? Am I married? God, do I have kids? What about my Mom and Dad?"

Miranda blinked at the onslaught of questions before beginning to answer, "you're not married, as far as I know, and no children. I'm afraid I don't know about your parents, we never spoke of.."

She paused, she wanted to say that they never spoke of anything personal, she wanted to clarify their relationship and advise Andréa that she had the misfortune to come across the most unhelpful person in this regard.

"I suppose I knew that I didn't have anyone," Andrea nodded rationally, "no one ever came looking for me. The guy from the embassy said that no one had reported me missing."

Miranda had no idea how to answer that and felt an ache deep within her heart as she considered the awful truth of that statement. How the young woman had been left to fend for herself in a foreign country, in hospital with a terrible injury with the knowledge that no one was looking for her. No one had missed her presence.

"So, do I.. do I live in New York?" Andrea questioned with wide and excited eyes.

Miranda nodded, "yes, you live in the City."

"Wow," Andrea smiled in astonishment before she tilted her head and asked, "wonder if I still have a place there. Wow, I wonder where my stuff is? I must have had stuff.."

Miranda was about to attempt to answer when Andrea's facial features turned to confusion, "how did you find me?"

"Hello Jean!" a male voice said from behind them and Miranda looked up to see Samuel Durand approaching them.

"Sam!" Andrea said and jumped up to give him a hug, "oh Sam, is this your doing? Did you find Miranda?"

"Oui, oui!" Samuel said with a huge smile as Andrea stepped back and let him speak, "I will admit I had nearly given up. After we spoke I wanted to do everything I could to help you but I couldn't get anywhere. Then last night I saw you on TV!"

Andrea's eyes shone with surprise, "me? On TV?"

"Yes!" Samuel said, "you and Miranda, I only saw you for a second but I knew it was you! It was a news show about fashion week, they showed some footage from the previous year and there you were. Beside this wonderful lady here."

Miranda blushed as Samuel indicated her with a smile.

Andrea threw her arms around him again, "I cannot thank you enough, I really can't!"

"It is I who should be thanking you!" Sam said from within the hug, "that article with you was the last article I sold!"

Miranda stood up, "excuse me, I just need to speak with Doctor Fontaine."

Andrea looked panicked and Miranda quickly reassured her, "I will be right back, I just need to speak with your Doctor."

Once Andrea had nodded her agreement Miranda made eye contact with Charlotte and the two women left the room to speak privately in the corridor. Once they were away from prying ears Miranda spoke, "I'm not a medical expert but twelve months is a very long time for someone to still be in hospital, she doesn't appear to be ill, aside from the memory loss. I'm surprised she is still here?"

Charlotte nodded, "oui, however, when she first arrived she was in emergency care for three months while she recovered from the accident. For the next six months there was therapy for recovering motor skills.."

"Motor skills?" Miranda questioned.

"Oui, it is not unusual for brain trauma patients to need to relearn basic motor function such as walking, eating, drinking, writing. Luckily Jean, apologies, Andréa, recovered quickly," Charlotte smiled, "after that she remained here as there was nowhere else for her to go. It was being decided where she would go and who would care for her."

"I'm sorry?" Miranda queried.

"She would be unable to care for herself, her motor functions are still not one hundred percent, she had no knowledge of the French language other than basic phrases. Part of her treatment has been to immerse her in her native language. The American authorities could not identify her and therefore would not pay for her treatment, the French authorities wanted the Americans to take responsibility for her wellbeing. It has been very difficult and it was decided it would be kindest for her to remain here until the legal facts had been cleared up."

Miranda nodded her understanding but also rolled her eyes at the legal mess and quickly asked, "how do I resolve this, how can I get her home?"

Charlotte looked surprised, "er, well, that would be very difficult. We need to prove who she is so she can be released from the care of the French medical system and then there would need to be a decision made on her ability to travel and then we would need to be sure that someone would be able to care for her medical needs. We cannot simply let her go without knowing she will be cared for, if something were to happen we would be held responsible.."

Miranda sighed as she analysed the situation and began to realise the enormity of the situation.

"And, we mustn't forget," Charlotte said seriously, "it is of course up to her as well. We cannot allow someone to take responsibility for her without her permission. She is mentally able to have a say. And there are few people in the world she knows, never mind trusts."

Miranda nodded and looked into the hospital room where Samuel and Andréa were in an animated discussion over something. She felt as lost and helpless as she imaged Andréa had once felt. Everything had changed and certainly everything was going to change. She couldn't leave the brunette behind again, she was practically suffocating with guilt already. All she knew now was that she wouldn't be leaving Paris without Andréa Sachs or Jean Dupont, whatever they wanted to call her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your patience while I staggered out the chapters. I know that it seemed like I was being a tease but I promise that it's not the case, I honestly feel that these pieces need to be released separately and slowly in order to be fully immersed in the I'd like to apologise for my awful French skills as well as my woeful lack of medical knowledge in this area. Dramatic licence will have to cover both!

* * *

><p>"Just think of the peace and quiet you'll have," Nigel smiled at the nervous redhead who was currently sitting on an uncomfortable airport terminal chair with her head between her legs breathing into a brown paper bag.<p>

"You can take Miranda's seat in first class, actually that's next to me, scratch that, you can keep your own seat in premium. Safe in the knowledge that she won't be.." Nigel was interrupted by a furious looking Emily snapping her head up and meeting his eyes with her own.

"Relax? Are you insane? Miranda is gone! She will miss her flight and who do you suppose she will blame for that? Hmm? ME! She will miss her flight and her entire schedule will be out, she will flip out!"

"Miranda's a grown woman, if she has gone off on a detour then she knows she'll miss her flight," Nigel reasoned.

"Bull!" Emily answered with a snivel, "she'll expect the airline to rearrange their schedule to accommodate her!"

Nigel laughed, he had to admit that that was entirely possible as they were talking about Miranda Priestly. He was about to speak again when Emily's mobile rang in the distinctive tone assigned to Miranda.

"Hello? Miranda!" Emily answered loudly as she sprung to her feet, "what? .. You, right … Yes. I'll-I'll see what I can do. Miranda what about.."

Clearly the call was disconnected and Emily took the phone away from her ear and stared at the device with a look of utter shock.

"What did she say?" Nigel asked with curiosity.

Emily looked at Nigel, "you won't believe this but she wants me to get a copy of Andy's passport."

"Andy Sachs?" Nigel questioned in surprise.

"Yep, she didn't say why, just that she wants it emailed to her immediately," Emily replied, still rooted to the spot where she stood.

Nigel took his own phone out of his inner jacket pocket and started dialling numbers, "well, then you better call human resources in New York and get them to get a copy out of the file."

Emily seemed to snap out of her daze and nodded as Nigel stood up and put his phone to his ear as he made his way across the terminal to somewhere a little less populated.

"Miranda? What's going on?" he asked once the call had been answered.

"Oh, Nigel, you wouldn't believe me.." Miranda's soft voice replied.

"You just asked Emily to get a copy of Andy's passport?" he queried.

"Don't tell the masses and certainly don't tell Emily, I want to keep this quiet, for now," Miranda said, "but Andréa is still her, still in Paris."

Nigel frowned, "and she lost her passport?"

"She lost everything, she's in hospital," Miranda whispered.

Nigel turned away from the public in the terminal to face the wall in an attempt to hide his shock, "she's where? Is she okay?"

"She has severe memory loss, she doesn't know who she is, Nigel," Miranda admitted quietly.

"How did you find her?" Nigel asked.

"That's a long story, for another day. Suffice to say I'm staying here with her until I can get this sorted out. I need a copy of her passport to prove her identity so I can get her home."

Nigel ran a bejewelled hand over his bald head as he nodded his understanding, "yes, yes, I see."

A thought seemed to suddenly occur to Miranda, "Nigel, tell me, do you know much about Andréa's family? Parents, siblings? Is she in a relationship? I really don't know what to tell the girl."

"Er, yes, sure, her parents died in a car crash about three years ago. No brothers or sisters that she ever spoke about. She broke up with her long term boyfriend just before Paris," Nigel said as he searched his memory for any further useful information, "her best friends are a girl called Lily and a guy named Doug but she argued with them both before leaving for Paris. Oh! I just remembered, she'd moved out of her apartment and put her belongings into storage just before we went to Paris. She was going to look for a new place to live when she got back."

The line went silent and Nigel wondered if Miranda had done her usual vanishing act, "hello?"

A deep sigh down the line indicated Miranda was still present, "don't you have anything, positive, I can tell her? Something that doesn't sound so terrible?"

Nigel thought for a moment and shook his head, "not really, her life was at a crossroads and she was making a lot of changes. For the better. She loved her job and she was looking forward to starting a new career in writing."

"Thank you, Nigel," Miranda said, "please tell Emily to hurry up with that passport."


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your patience while I staggered these first three chapters. I know that it seemed like I was being a tease but I promise that it's not the case, I honestly feel that these pieces need to be released separately and slowly in order to be fully immersed in the story. I intend for this to be a long story and the next chapters will be longer as we explore the storyline further.

Also I'd like to apologise for my awful French skills as well as my woeful lack of medical knowledge in this area. Dramatic licence will have to cover both!

* * *

><p>Miranda disconnected the call and summoned a deep, calming breath before she turned and walked back into the patient's room and returned to the table where Andrea and Samuel were sitting. As she approached Andréa looked up at her with a smile, some of the brightness had returned to her eyes and Miranda could see a small shadow of the girl she once knew.<p>

Samuel stood up and handed Miranda a home printed business card, "merci, for speaking to me and for.. everything. Please let me know that she is okay, I worry."

Miranda smiled a small smile and accepted the business card, "I will keep you updated."

With a final hug to Andréa he left the room with a spring in his step and Andréa smiled, "what would have happened without him, I wonder.."

Miranda nodded, "he is certainly persistent."

The younger woman nodded before her expression turned serious, "so, what happens to me now? Do you know?"

Miranda steadied herself, she knew this was an important discussion, a serious talk that had to go perfectly. There could be no misunderstandings, no doubts, no concerns. She had to do something she wasn't particularly good at, explain things.

"That is somewhat up to you," Miranda admitted, "I am getting a copy of your passport so I can prove who you are and that you are an American citizen. Once that happens the French authorities will release you into the care of the American authorities.."

"I don't want to go to the American Embassy," Andréa interrupted, "they weren't very nice and didn't help me at all."

Miranda nodded her agreement, "the hospital won't discharge you until you are to be in the care of someone, at least for the immediate future. I would like to take you home, to New York. To help get you settled again. I understand that may be a little difficult as we have only just met.."

Andréa looked around the room trying to take in the situation before she slowly nodded, "I.. well.. I don't know. I don't want to be here anymore, the gown is hideous.."

Miranda smiled at the hint of Andréa's humour returning, "it is ghastly," she agreed.

"I want to go home, wherever that is, maybe I'll remember something when I see New York?"

"Maybe you will," Miranda said without commitment before asking the big question, "are you happy to be discharged into my care?"

Andréa's big brown eyes met Miranda and she slowly nodded her agreement.

Charlotte appeared at that moment, "apologies for eaves dropping.."

Miranda looked up at the Doctor, "understandable, what is the procedure from here?"

Charlotte sat down at the table and addressed Andréa, "Jean, are you comfortable with this? Once you leave the hospital you will not be able to return.."

"Andréa," Miranda muttered.

"Andy," the brunette said with a smile, "I think I'm an Andy."

Miranda dramatically rolled her eyes, "well, she's back.."

Andy ignored her and said to Charlotte, "I want to go back to New York, I might remember who I am there. Everything seems to alien to me here.."

"It will do," said Charlotte, "it is alien to you. From my understanding you had only been here for a week before your accident. While going to New York may help your memories to return there is a real possibility, like we talked about, that those memories are gone forever."

Andy slightly nodded her understanding, "I know," she whispered, "but I want to try."

"And you are comfortable with Miranda having power of attorney for you and your affairs?" Charlotte asked seriously.

Miranda turned her head away and started to quietly check the email messages on her phone to give the young woman the space to consider the situation and to not seem like she was being pressured from Miranda.

"I.. I don't know what that means," Andy admitted.

"It means she will be legally responsible for you, you maintain control but she can make decision for you. She can manage your financial affairs, she can make limited decisions on your medical treatment and she can decide where you live. As you have sustained a brain trauma there may be other powers she has, you may want to consult a legal advisor regarding the laws in America."

While she was endeavouring to give the appearance of not listening Miranda's eyebrow magically raised as she listened to the Doctor, she hadn't fully understood the complexities of taking charge of Andréa's care. She began to wonder if she should be more open with the girl about their relationship, about the terms of her departure. Or would that ruin everything? She felt that she had only a fingertip grasp on the girl now and she wasn't willing to do anything that might loosen that grip.

A new email from Emily caught her eye, apparently she had awoken the head of human resources as it was five in the morning in New York and had told them to get into the office immediately to send a copy of Andréa's file to her and Miranda. Miranda smiled as she looked up to re-join the conversation.

Andréa seemed deep in thought about the issue and was staring out of the window as she considered her options. Miranda looked at Charlotte who gave a small smile in return, "it is a big decision, a hard one when you hardly know someone."

Andy nodded her agreement, "yeah, the difference is that I hardly know anyone.."

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak again but Andy held up her hand and said, "no, I've made my decision, I think this is right for me. I want to go home, if that's okay with you, Miranda?"

Miranda nodded her agreement before addressing Charlotte, "a member of my staff is sourcing a copy of Andréa's passport, I should have it within the next hour. What do we do from there?"

"I need to speak with our legal team, once we have the passport we need to draw up a power of attorney and we need it to be signed by a judge. That will take some time," Charlotte said with a sigh.

"How much time?" Miranda questioned.

"At least three days," Charlotte replied.

"Absolutely not," Miranda replied in a quiet but deadly tone, "this will be completed today, I have already missed by flight to New York for today but I intend for us both to be on the same flight tomorrow."

Both women stared at Miranda in surprise, the quiet and meek woman had finally shown her true colours and both were a little startled by what they saw but neither said anything. Charlotte nodded, "I will start the proceedings immediately," she said as she got up and left the room.

Andy stared at Miranda and Miranda eventually asked her, "what?"

"Nothing," Andy said with a slight smile.

"That kind of delay is uncalled for," Miranda elaborated, "the French are so lax and they'll take forever if you let them."

Andy nodded her agreement, "yes, dealing with them so far hasn't been great. So, what does a second assistant do?"

Miranda blinked a few times as she wondered exactly how she would explain what the second assistant did, to be honest she had no idea what either of her assistants exactly did other than be at her beck and call. And besides, Andréa was far more like a first assistant, or she was when she was there.

"Assists the first assistant, who assists me," Miranda finally answered with a distracted wave of the hand.

"Okay," Andy nodded, "so, I'm pretty low down the food chain then?"

Miranda almost looked hurt, "absolutely not, you're the second assistant to Miranda Priestly, a million girls would kill for your job."

"Oh," Andy replied, partially relived but partially terrified at the prospect of how important her job now sounded, "so, what happened?"

Miranda simply raised her eyebrow questioningly in an attempt to evade the question.

"You said I worked for you," Andy said, clearly she had picked up on Miranda's original turn of phrase.

"You did," Miranda said as she looked away and considered her options before looking back at the young woman, "the day before we were due to leave you walked away from your job, from me. I don't know why, one moment you were there and the next moment you were gone."

Andy's eyes went wide with shock and she covered her open mouth.

"We all assumed you had gone home, your belongings were removed from your hotel room when I got back from the dinner.." Miranda faded out as the memory filled her mind. She remembered sitting alone in the back of a limousine planning exactly what she would say to the brunette once she got back to the hotel and no doubt would find her in her room awaiting hell and begging forgiveness. But knocking on the door had produced no results and when Miranda had used the spare key card to Andréa's room she was shocked to find the room had been completely emptied.

She had quickly searched the wardrobe and the bathroom but found none of Andréa's belongings so she sat on the edge of the made bed, trust the perfect creature to even make her hotel bed before fleeing the country. Replaying the events from the car journey over and over again Miranda was at a loss as to why Andréa had left her. Eventually, after half an hour of staring blankly at the carpet she held her head high and returned to her room but the feeling of loss and, later, anger had remained for a long time.

"I am so sorry, I don't know why I would have done that," Andy said as she shook herself in dismay at her own actions.

"It is done now," Miranda said with a small shrug.

Before either woman had a chance to speak again a nurse came to tell Andy it was time for her physiotherapy, Andy seemed reluctant to leave but Miranda assured her that she also had to leave to speak with her lawyers in order to secure a power of attorney and to make arrangements for her. Miranda promised faithfully that she would return that evening and hopefully she would have secured a plan of action by then. After a while Andy hesitantly left the patient's room and Charlotte joined Miranda again at the table.

"Comment allez-vous?" Charlotte asked with a soft smile.

"Je ne sais pas," Miranda answered honestly, "it is rather difficult to take it all in."

"Oui, it will be, there is nothing that can prepare you for it," Charlotte agreed.

"The physiotherapy, how intensive is it?" Miranda questioned.

"She currently has a two hour session each day, followed by an hour of memory building and retrieval exercises," Charlotte replied, "this is a treatment that will need to be continued when she returns to America."

"Of course," Miranda agreed, in her mind she had already agreed to organise and fund Andy's treatment.

Charlotte handed over a piece of paper, "here are the details of our legal manager, she will be able to speak with your legal adviser and they will be able to make arrangements."

"Thank you," Miranda replied as she folded the piece of paper and placed it inside her handbag, "I shall return to my hotel and I will be back this evening."

* * *

><p>"Come on, we need to board," Nigel told Emily as he walked past her and towards the departure gate.<p>

"But, what about.." Emily started as she picked up her hand luggage and hurried to follow him.

"She'll be staying in Paris for another night, maybe more," Nigel replied without indication that he was going to say much more.

"What? Why? What should I do about the schedule? Is this because of Andrea?" Emily asked as she caught up to Nigel.

"Cancel the schedule, yes it's because of Andrea, don't ask any further questions because I just can't tell you," Nigel said with a sigh, "suffice to say that you're going to really earn your pay check over the next few days!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your patience while I staggered out the chapters. I know that it seemed like I was being a tease but I promise that it's not the case, I honestly feel that these pieces need to be released separately and slowly in order to be fully immersed in the story.

Also I'd like to apologise for my awful French skills as well as my woeful lack of medical knowledge in this area. Dramatic licence will have to cover both!

* * *

><p>An hour later and Miranda was back at the Shangri-La hotel, her bags stacked in the corner as she was pacing the room while a bleary eyed man t-shirt spoke to her via the Skype connection on her widescreen TV on the wall.<p>

"As I say, my guy in London is already on his way so he'll be with you in a couple of hours," the man said as he smothered a yawn behind his hand.

"Is that really the best you can do, Michael?" Miranda asked as she continued to pace, "as I said to you, this really is of the upmost urgency and I really need to be flying back to New York as soon as possible."

"And as I said to you, Miranda, my guy in London is the best, he knows French and European law inside out and he will be able to deal with this for you. But are you really sure you want to be responsible for power of attorney over this former employee? It's a lot to ask of anyone, never mind someone with your workload," he said as he watched his client and friend of thirty years pace the room like a caged tiger.

"Yes, yes, I know about all of that," she said with a casual wave of the hand, "I just need to get Andréa out of that terrible facility."

Michael turned his head to access the iPad he had in his hand, "according to this it's one of the finest facilities in Europe."

Miranda snorted a laugh, "don't believe everything you read online, I changed my own Wikipedia page to knock a few years off and no one batted an eyelid! Seriously though, what are the chances of expediting this matter?"

"Honestly, the French courts are slow, to get her American identification officially recognised and name you as attorney you will need to go to court, when Gareth gets there he will set up an emergency appointment and hopefully that will happen later this afternoon or, more likely, first thing tomorrow morning. Once you have that it's a matter of going to the Embassy and getting an emergency passport so she can travel," Michael replied.

"And how long does an emergency passport take?" Miranda bristled at the very notion of all of this paperwork and red tape.

"It should be the same day," Michael said with a shrug, "but I can't make any promises, that is very much out of our hands."

A beep from Miranda's phone indicated a new message and she picked the device up from the sofa where she had tossed it when she had returned to her room, "at last, I have the photocopy of her passport."

"Great, can you forward it to me? I can make the Embassy aware and get the ball rolling," Michael said through another yawn.

Miranda pressed a few buttons, "it's on its way, do you need anything else from me? I'm rather few up with seeing a 42-inch screen of your tonsils."

Michael laughed, "sorry, it is early here you know.."

"So everyone keeps telling me," Miranda muttered impatiently.

"Got it. Mmm," he said with a smile.

Miranda's head shot up and she glared at him, "what do you mean 'mmm'?"

"Nothing, just a nice looking girl," Michael smiled again.

Miranda shrugged, "yes, I suppose she is.."

"Mmm," Michael said again, purposefully to annoy Miranda.

"Oh, go away," she said with a roll of the eyes, "wake up and get on with it!"

He held his hands up with a laugh, "I'm on it, don't worry.."

Michael disconnected the call and Miranda turned the television off with the remote and sat on the sofa while still cradling the remote in her hands. Her mind was swimming with questions and theories and fears. Mostly fears. When Andréa had gone missing all those months ago nothing like this had ever occurred to Miranda, she was convinced that the girl was safe and happy, mainly happy to be away from her. From what she was becoming. So desperate to not be like her the girl had fled in a foreign country.

And now the tables were turned, Andréa would be utterly dependant on Miranda. Miranda would have control over her life, her finances, her living arrangements, her medical treatments. The woman who Andréa was terrified to resemble would now hold what some might call the ultimate power over her. In her heart Miranda knew that she hadn't been entirely honest with Andréa at the hospital, while she hadn't outright lied she hadn't necessarily shared valuable information as to their relationship. She hadn't explained to Andréa who she was, what she was like, how she was feared and even hated. How Andréa hated her. How Andréa had walked away in fear and revulsion, scared of what Miranda was capable of to protect her precious career and disgust at the way she treated people.

But Miranda couldn't have brought herself to have spoken out, to have been open and honest about their relationship and her deep flaws. The strangling fear of losing Andréa again was too much to bare. No, that was a conversation for another day, once Andréa was safely home and recovering then Miranda would show her true colours to the girl. Miranda sighed, she knew she would not have long before she had to expose the truth of their relationship. She couldn't risk the chance that Andréa's memories could come back before Miranda had the chance to come clean. The overwhelming feeling of guilt was nagging away at her and she needed to be with Andréa, to make it up to her, to cleanse herself from her transgressions. From forgetting about her. From allowing her to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your patience while I staggered out the chapters. I know that it seemed like I was being a tease but I promise that it's not the case, I honestly feel that these pieces need to be released separately and slowly in order to be fully immersed in the story.

Also I'd like to apologise for my awful French skills as well as my woeful lack of medical knowledge in this area. Dramatic licence will have to cover both!

* * *

><p>The afternoon seemed to disappear in a flash of activity as well as coffee to keep up the momentum. Gareth had arrived promptly and was as efficient as Michael had promised. While travelling from London to Paris he had arranged an appointment with a French judge for the following morning, he had also prepared all the paperwork for the power of attorney and cleared most of it with the hospital. He had somehow managed to get the American Embassy to speed through a new passport, Andréa simply needed to have her photograph taken the next morning and a passport would be issued immediately. And, finally, Miranda had arranged for them to both fly out the following afternoon to be back at JFK in time for a late dinner.<p>

Miranda had cancelled all her appointments for the next two days and arranged for the girls to stay another week with her mother, they were delighted of course. They adored their grandmother and the house right on the beach was more than enough compensation for being away from the comforts of their own rooms for a few more days. Of course she hadn't explained to anyone the reason behind this sudden schedule change though she knew at some point she would have to. It would be impossible to keep the secret for much longer.

* * *

><p>It was six o'clock in the evening when she arrived back at the hospital to see Andréa, as she had promise. As she arrived she approached the reception desk and lowered her sunglasses, "Andréa Sachs, s'il vous plait."<p>

The receptionist nodded and started typing on her computer before frowning, "Sachs? S-A-C-H-S?"

Miranda sighed and nodded before adding, "she may be listed as Jean Dupont.."

"Ah," the receptionist smiled, "you are the lady who has come to take Jean home?"

"Andréa. Sachs." Miranda clearly stated, she was beginning to lose her patience with the Jane Doe scenario.

"Of course, let me call Doctor Fontaine for you, please sit down," the receptionist said as she indicated the plastic waiting room chairs lined up along the wall. Miranda turned and looked down her nose at the seats and made no move as she waited by the reception desk.

Within a few moments Charlotte appears, "bonsoir, welcome back."

Miranda nodded, "merci."

"I have spoken with our legal manager and everything seems to be ready for Andréa's departure tomorrow, no?"

Miranda nodded, "indeed."

"I also had a call from New York Presbyterian hospital and, once the judge approves everything, I shall forward all of Andréa's medical details onto them," Charlotte smiled.

"Wonderful," Miranda said while conscious of the fact they were still standing in reception.

Charlotte lowered her voice, "I'm afraid that Andréa is unwell at present, nothing too serious but she has a migraine. It is common with her type of brain injury and I think all the excitement of the day has caused it."

Miranda frowned but nodded her understanding, "shall I come back tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, no, no," Charlotte laughed, "she would be furious with us if we let you leave without at least saying hello. She is in her room," Charlotte indicated for Miranda to follow her as they approached an elevator, "she needs to lie down and take things slowly until the migraine passes but I know she is very eager to speak with you. I believe she has many more questions."

Miranda nodded, "I feared that she would.."

"Problème?" Charlotte questioned as the two women stepped into the elevator.

"Andréa only worked for me for a year," Miranda started to explain, "and, we were not, in anyway, close. Quite simply I know hardly anything about her.."

"Ah," Charlotte said as she selected the third floor, "from my experience you will know a lot more than you think. For example someone may ask if they have siblings and we may be able to say that, oui you have a brother. But until a patient can connect with that fact on an emotional level it will only be a statement, not a feeling. You may not have the facts and figures but you can maybe provide something more? A description of how she is obsessed with filing, how she has a messy desk, that she hates early mornings. Maybe these real life observations will help more than simple facts?"

Miranda nodded, this was something she hadn't considered. Maybe she did have more to offer Andréa than just the basic facts of her life. Maybe she could use her Editorial skills to explain what she is like as a person rather than a list of blank statistics. The elevator doors opened and the two women proceeded down the corridors, "what Andréa needs most is love and care," Charlotte said and Miranda nearly laughed out loud at the very thought. Charlotte turned to address Miranda's silence and Miranda smiled an unsure and mildly terrified smile.

They stopped outside an old fashioned wooden door and Charlotte quietly opened the door and peaked her head around the corner, "Andy, are you well enough to see Miranda?"

A soft mumble could be heard from inside and Charlotte backed out of the room and gestured for Miranda to enter, "I will return later."

Miranda entered the small room with a hesitant step and Charlotte closed the door behind her. Once in the room she squinted to make out her surroundings, the window was covered by shabby curtains that were drawn shut to keep the glare of the sun out. The room seemed more like a prison cell than a hospital room but then Andréa was not exactly a normal patient so was not in one of the wards they had passed on the way to the room.

There were basic washing facilities in the form of an old Victorian style sink with a small selection of toiletries in the corner of the room below the small window. Against the opposite wall was a small writing desk with a number of tatty books lined up neatly along the top and an old schoolhouse style chair tucked underneath. A rickety chest of drawers, a bed and an up-turned bin being used as a makeshift bedside cabinet was the only other furniture in the dreary little room.

Laying on the bed was Andréa, smiling with tear-filled eyes in a contradiction that made Miranda's heart ache for the young woman.

"Excuse me if I don't get up," Andréa whispered slowly.

"I'd be angry if you did," Miranda retorted as she placed her handbag and her coat on the small desk and gently carried the chair over to the side of the bed and sat down, "I hear that today has been a little too much for you?"

"Yeah," Andréa admitted, "must have been the pasta for lunch."

Miranda smiled, "if you want some peace and quiet I could.."

"No!" Andréa raised her voice and started to sit up before the thundering headache prevented her from doing and she closed her eyes and lowered herself back down to the mattress, "no, I really would rather you stayed."

Miranda nodded and sat quietly, not sure what to do next.

"Have you changed you mind yet?" Andréa whispered.

"About?" Miranda questioned.

"About taking on a brain damaged wreck, I'm sure you have a life of your own.." Andréa muttered sadly.

"Well, if you're going to be this depressing then yes I might just leave you here," Miranda replied as she picked a piece of lint from her skirt.

"You changed clothes," Andréa pointed out.

"Yes," Miranda answered, "I was in a travelling outfit so I changed."

"I have a travelling outfit now," Andréa smiled, "the nurses found the clothes I was wearing when I was brought in.. Unless you would prefer I wear the gown?"

"You may experience a draft on the flight in the gown," Miranda replied.

"I can't remember flying," Andréa said inquisitively, "do I like flying? Am I scared?"

Miranda considered this for a moment and thought back to the journey to Paris, while Andréa had been efficient and hadn't given any indication of a fear of flying she had gripped the armrests during take-off. Miranda examined the memory in more detail, the girl has stuttered while the airplane had roared down the runway and, yes, maybe there was a fear of flying.

"You never spoke of a fear of flying," Miranda replied honestly, not wishing to create trouble for the journey tomorrow. She tried to convince herself it was a selfish act and that she didn't want to have to cope with the added stress of a nervous flyer.

"Good," Andréa replied, "any idea when I might be able to leave?"

Miranda blinked, suddenly realising that Andréa was completely out of the loop, "actually, yes," she said quietly and slowly, not wanting to over excite her too much, "my lawyers have managed to get us an appointment with a judge tomorrow morning, you and I will have to attend court and you will have to answer some questions about your understanding of my having power of attorney. Once that is done you will be discharged from the hospital and into my care."

Despite the pain of her migraine Miranda could see a very real and very wide smile on Andréa's face as she continued, "and then we have to attend the American Embassy so you can have your photograph taken for your new passport. That will be issued within the hour and then we go straight to the airport and we fly to New York."

A small tear fell down Andréa's cheek quickly followed by another one and then another and Miranda stood up and sat on the edge of the bed and gently stroked the short brown locks, "Andréa? What's wrong?"

"I'm just happy," Andréa said, "I'm not sad, don't worry."

Miranda smiled down at her and nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her thumb.

"I just can't believe after all this time someone found me and I'm going home," Andréa whispered, "I'd given up hope. I thought I'd be thrown around the legal system for a few years before being kicked out of the medical system and be stuck in France not knowing anyone. And then you turned up and now I'm going home and even though I don't know anything about it and I don't have a clue what is coming next I somehow feel more.. whole. More, me. I can't thank you enough, Miranda. I promise I will pay you back for everything you have done for me, I don't know how but somehow I will."

"Shh," Miranda soothed, "you don't need to pay me back, you don't need to worry about such things," Miranda stood up and straightened her blouse, "but you do need to get some rest. You can't go to court like this so you must rest."

Andréa nodded gently, "promise this isn't all a dream?"

"I promise," Miranda said as she put the chair back and gathered her coat and bag.

"Promise you'll be back tomorrow?" Andréa whispered.

"Of course, I'll be here at nine o'clock," Miranda smiled softly, "now rest."


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>That night Miranda had a restless sleep filled with haunting dreams. From her own abandonment and loneliness worries to Andréa's situation, she found that the Egyptian cotton sheets and the luxurious bed of the Shangri-La was not enough to soothe her. On the fifth time when she was shocked awake by her own malevolent thoughts she decided that sleep was a lost cause and that it would be a great deal more productive to stay awake. So at five minutes to four in the morning Miranda Priestly opened her laptop and started to work, this was far from an unusual occurrence but there was something about the loneliness of the hour of the day in a quiet hotel room being cut-off from her usual support network of staff that made her decidedly edgy.<p>

As her hands stilled on the laptop keyboard her thoughts drifted to Andréa and how well she was coping with everything, or seemed to be at least. Miranda couldn't imagine for one moment being in that situation, cut off from her own memories and waiting for someone, anyone to come looking for her. Just the mere thought sent a shiver down her spine. Of course Miranda would never be in that situation, if she were to vanish great numbers of people would seek her out. Her mother, her girls, her ex-husbands, her employees even her employers would want to know where their cash cow might have vanished to. It seemed strangely surreal that Andréa would have no one at all, such a vivacious and friendly spirit and yet so completely alone in the world. With a deep sigh Miranda opened the attachments on emails detailing the younger women's required medical care and the power of attorney she would soon have over her. Such a terrifying prospect for Miranda to be managing that aspect of Andréa's life but Miranda was determined to do what she could for her.

If she really allowed herself to think about it she knew she was doing all of this out of guilt, not that she really allowed herself to think about it. She didn't need to be reminded of her role in Andréa's decision to walk away, the conversation that led her to leave, the lack of concern when she never heard from or of the girl ever again. Not even a lack of concern, more a joy really. Knowing that someone had crossed her and was too fearful to dare to return had given her a certain pleasure. She shivered and wrapped her robe tighter around herself and pushed the thoughts from her mind. She wouldn't allow herself to think such thoughts, her only aim now was to return Andréa to New York and help to get her health and her life back on track.

* * *

><p>"No way, I'm not going anywhere with you!" Andréa shouted at Miranda as she threw the empty Louis Vuitton holdall back at the older woman.<p>

Miranda caught the bag before it hit her in the face and stood in the centre of the room with a look of thunder on her face, she had literally just arrived and Andréa was in some kind of mania.

"We don't throw Louis Vuitton, Andréa," Miranda said in her coldest tone in an attempt to gain some kind of control over the situation.

"Andy, I told you, I prefer Andy," the brunette said with her hands on her hips.

"Very well, Andréa," Miranda said with purpose, "would you mind enlightening me on what on earth is going on?"

"You," Andy said as she pointed at the woman from her position in the corner of the room where she had been pacing like a trapped animal, "you are what is going on, you are such a fraud!"

Miranda opened her mouth to reply but she realised she had nothing to say and before she had the chance to come up with something Andy started her rant again, "I looked you up, thank God I did! Before I was stuck on some plane with you, did you think they didn't have the Internet in backwards old France? Eh? Well they do! Ice Queen, that's what they call you! And The Dragon! No one has a nice word to say about you, you're a backstabbing manipulative cold hearted witch caring only about yourself!"

Miranda remained silent and stared at the floor with immense irritation.

"And you've been here, like you're my best friend or something," Andy continued, "being all nice and charming when that is not you at all, is it?"

Miranda remained silent clutching the rescued Louis Vuitton in her hand and seemingly debating what to say.

"Not going to deny it then?" Andy said triumphantly.

"Am I going to deny that journalists, competitors, ex-employers and even my ex-husbands call me an Ice Queen and a Dragon? No," Miranda said slowly and quietly as she pinned Andy with her stare, "am I going to deny that the press enjoys tales of my difficult nature, my inability to hold down a relationship and my struggle to be a woman in a corporate man's world? No. Have I been called backstabbing? Yes. Manipulative? Yes. The cold hearted witch I'm going to take you at your word on for I've not actually seen the sentiment in print but I'm sure you're correct. But have I attempted to deceive you? Absolutely not? Do I wish you any harm? No. I know that the perception of me from the press is.. difficult to swallow. Yes, I am aloof, no I don't suffer fools, yes I have exacting standards and punish those who cannot live up to them. It's my job. Runway is not some high school newspaper, it's a critically acclaimed, multinational magazine published in 17 countries and 23 editions every month. I am the Editor in Chief of American Runway and with that every other Editor looks to me for guidance and direction. Runway is valued at more than two hundred and twenty five million dollars and, with no over exaggeration, that is because of me and me alone. I carry the company and the publication. So I don't exactly have the luxury of being a sweet, approachable best pal to the world and his wife and I make no apology for that. I may be a cold hearted witch but I am all that you have, I'll continue to maintain my nice and charming act for you as best I can but at least now you will know the truth under the mask."

Andy stared at the older woman for a long while after she had finished her speech before she finally stuttered, "I.. I'm sorry, I don't know what come over me."

"I think perhaps you are remembering me and who I am," Miranda said with a sniff.

"No, you're a complete mystery to me, I don't remember a thing," Andy clarified, "I think that's why I went off the deep end, I thought you were tricking me somehow. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things, they are just the opinions of gossips."

Miranda tilted her head, "well, most of it is rather accurate.."

Andy licked her chapped lips nervously and let out the sigh she had been holding in, "you should leave me here," she said with a sad smile, "I think this is probably just an indication of how much trouble I'm going to cause you."

Miranda nodded her head, "of course, you'll be far more trouble before long, like you were before."

Andy smiled a small grin, "that bad, was I?"

"Utterly abysmal, you wouldn't believe how long it took you to get coffee," Miranda deadpanned, "now pack your bag with whatever you are bringing and meet me downstairs in five minutes."


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>A few moments later Miranda paced the small reception as her mind ran wild following the confrontation with Andréa. She knew of the countless websites and articles that contained information on her, of course she had spoken with her girls about the lies they contained many a time. And sometimes even when they didn't contain actual lies, but how were you to explain necessary behaviour to a pair of under tens? Miranda never explained herself she thought that was a kind of behaviour you grew out of but on very rare occasion she found that she did have to, usually with a loved one. Her mother, her girls, her husband sometimes all three needed her to explain her behaviour. And now she found she was doing the same for Andréa.<p>

"Miranda," Charlotte Fontaine said softly as she came into reception and attempted to stop the older woman from her relentless pacing.

Miranda stopped pacing and nodded her greeting to the doctor.

"I have just spoken with Andy," Charlotte explained, "she is very upset about her outburst."

With a sniff Miranda waved her hand, "water under the bridge."

Charlotte frowned at the expression.

Miranda corrected herself, "we discussed it and we are agreed to forget it happened."

With a smile and a nod Charlotte replied, "good, but I should explain that we suspect damage to the frontal lobe of Andy's brain. Did you read the report?"

Miranda nodded that she had read the report and added, "possible damage to the.. executive functions was it?"

Charlotte nodded, "it is very difficult to identify in Andy's case, she only shows a small amount of possible damage to this area. But it is difficult to tell if her social behaviour is her normal behaviour, stress related or from damage to the frontal lobe."

"Andréa would never have normally spoken to me like that," Miranda acknowledged, "however, as you say she is under a great deal of stress. I would hope that is the root cause rather than the additional damage to the frontal lobe."

"I'm sure her American doctors will provide excellent care," Charlotte said.

Miranda nodded, "they will, I'll see to it. I'm very glad she found her way here, if this tragedy had to happen it was good fortune that she ended up here."

Charlotte smiled, "that is very kind of you to say so... ah hallo Andy!"

Andy appeared in the reception in tight black jeans and a casual white t-shirt with an oversized stylishly ripped pale blue sweater over the top and a pair of knee high black riding boots. She held her newly acquired, and obviously sparsely filled, holdall loosely by her side. She looked terrified but excited and the nurse from behind the reception desk rushed out to hug the young woman, before long a number of other nurses filled the reception. There were tearful farewells, gifts and cards were passed along and hugs were plentiful as Andy made her way towards Charlotte.

"Andy, it has been a real pleasure getting to know you," Charlotte said as she held the woman in a tight embrace, "you must take very good care of yourself and I want to hear everything about New York, oui?"

The pair parted but held hands, "oui, I will write you as soon as I can," Andy said with a big smile.

"We need to go," Miranda said, half wanting to get away from the overflow of emotion and half wanting to remove all the young French women from her Andréa.

Andy nodded and the two left the hospital and got into the waiting limousine and made their way to the courtroom.

* * *

><p>"You're scaring her half to death," Miranda said as she went toe to toe with the English Lawyer who was quickly backing down and holding his hands up to calm the irate white haired woman.<p>

"I don't mean to do anything like that, but she needs to be prepared for the questions the judge is going to ask," Gareth replied, "and, and I'm sorry to say this, you need to remain absolutely silent until spoken to when we get in there."

The glare could have melted steel.

"I'm sorry but it's true, I've done a lot of reading on this judge and he is very strict and he won't like an American woman coming in and telling him how to run his courtroom. The quickest and most efficient way of getting out of here is speaking when spoken to and saying as little as possible and, above all else, sticking to the script," Gareth continued.

With a roll of the eyes and a slight nod of the head Miranda agreed and Gareth turned back to Andy who was sitting down on a hard wooden bench looking at the two powerhouses battling it out, "Andrea, I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you but these are questions that he may ask and it's best for you to be prepared."

Andy nodded, "I understand."

Gareth smiled at her but that smile soon faded as he looked at Miranda who was still glowering at him, "right, I'll tell the court staff that we're ready.

* * *

><p>Forty minutes later the three exited the courthouse with a signed power of attorney. Andy looked at Gareth and with a smile quipped, "does this mean she owns me now?"<p>

"I'm afraid so, until such time that she exchanges you for livestock or something," Gareth winked.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Miranda sniffed as she brushed past them and towards the limousine.

Gareth gently brushed Andy's hand with his, "here's my business card, if you need the power of attorney undoing then call me and I'll get it arranged for you."

Andy took the business card and nodded, "I think I'll be fine," she said with a soft smile, "I think the bark is worse than the bite."

Gareth smiled, "I think so too, but just in case, eh? Come on, let's not keep her waiting, Embassy next!"

The two caught up to Miranda and the three made their way to the American Embassy where Miranda fussed with Andréa's hair before she allowed the heavy handed buffoon with the camera to take her photograph. Miranda pointed out that this picture would be with her for years to come and wanted to ensure that Andréa was happy with the results.

In what seemed like the flash of the photographer's bulb the morning had passed. Andy sat in a classy restaurant in Charles de Gaulle airport with an uneaten plate of food in front of her as she tried to take in all what had happened. She had said goodbye to everything and everyone she ever knew, she was now in the care of some almighty fashion guru who seemed to be suffering from multiple personality disorder and she was about to get on a nine hour flight to her home country that she had never been to before. But she was a step closer to finding out who she was, she had a name. She also had a middle name, though she instantly took a dislike to it and decided to never speak of it again.

She looked up at Miranda and wondered who on earth had a travelling outfit never mind two travelling outfits. Clearly the woman in front of her did. Miranda slowly ate bites of her steak and salad lunch whilst checking her iPad Mini for emails and making various calls on her mobile phone. It appeared she was a skilled linguist as she had already spoken what Andy assumed to be Spanish and Italian in the half an hour they had been sat at the table, that on top of ordering their meal in French.

Andy wondered if she had known any languages and if she did if they would return to her. She spent most of the time wondering about her previous self, with so little else to occupy herself she seemed all consumed with finding out what her previous self was all about and trying to recapture that.

"Are you not hungry?" Miranda questioned as she indicated Andy's uneaten meal with a flick of her eyes, "or is something wrong with the food? Would you like something else?"

Miranda was already turning to seek out a waiter and no doubt have the plate cleared and another prepared when Andy replied, "no, no it's wonderful, I'm just not very hungry. I think I'm nervous."

"Of the flight? It will be fine, you won't notice a thing," Miranda said with a wave of her fork as she returned her attention to her iPad.

"I don't think I'm nervous of the flight, more.. everything," Andy said.

Miranda looked up over her glasses and scrutinised the girl for a few moments, "you should try to take your mind off of things," she decided.

"Easier said than done," Andy replied as she picked up her fork and made an effort to find something on the plate that she thought might settle her queasy stomach.

Miranda thought about this for a moment before answering, "how about you read? I notice your bag is practically filled with nothing but books?"

Andy laughed, "yeah, they are all my worldly possessions. When I first started to recover I couldn't read very well so I practiced a lot and I found I really enjoyed it. But there weren't many English books around so the ones I have are old and donated by the staff at the hospital. I've probably read each one thirty times or more and some aren't even stories."

Miranda watched as Andy opened her bag and started to pull a couple of dilapidated books out and place them on the table, "this one is about clouds, mainly, sometimes it goes into the potential of a God sitting on a cloud but mainly about clouds. And this one," Andy picked up a book and held it for Miranda to see, "well this beauty is about train stations in Moscow which, I'm afraid to say, is actually quite interesting. The first time. But when you have so little to do you end up reading it several times."

"Please get that off of the table," Miranda said with an upturned nose as she pushed her plate to one side and placed her iPad directly in front of her, "so, what books do you like reading?"

Andy thought about that, "oh, I like everything, I think I like the classics. I have two books by Charles Dickens and I like them. I have one more modern book, about career women and romance and all that but that's really not my thing."

Miranda seemed to nod her agreement and even pleasure at that, "crime? History? Humour? Science Fiction?"

"Erm, I guess?" Andy answered, "not sure about crime, I've not read any. History, yeah, did I mention the whole three chapters on Moscow train stations during the forties? Humour, yes, I like humour. No idea about Science Fiction though."

During this conversation Miranda had been busily tapping at the touch screen on her iPad and nodding as Andy spoke. She sat upright and with a satisfied nod she handed the device to Andy who took it hesitantly, "I have bought the current top 50 books according to New York Times, they are currently downloading, I'm sure you will find something that suits you there."

Andy held the device like a treasure but didn't accept it, "that is very generous but I can't take this, you need it to do your work."

"Nonsense, I have my laptop and on the journey I will probably rest, I had a.. difficult night's sleep," she admitted but quickly summoned a waiter to clear her plate to cover up any sign of weakness.

"Then I'll gratefully accept this, thank you," Andy said with a smile as she placed the device beside her plate, "how do you use it?"

Miranda smiled as she remembered when the girl first presented her with the iPad Mini, it was a gift from Tim Cook and, as Apple was a new advertiser for another of Elias Clark's publications, she had to show willing. Andréa had happily explained to her how easy to use it was, demonstrating the swipe function and downloading all the best apps for her. Miranda picked up the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table as she took the seat in between her and the confused looking brunette and started to explain how to access the different functions of the machine.

* * *

><p>Andy stopped dead in the middle of her walk through the air bridge and towards the aircraft, "no way," she said and turned to face Miranda who had been walking behind her, "no way can that fly, look at it."<p>

Miranda followed her gaze through the window to the Boeing 757 that they were about to board, "don't be absurd, of course it can fly, how did it get here?"

"Look at it, it must weigh a million tonnes!" Andy whispered through clenched teeth as other first class patients passed them by.

"And look at those enormous ten million dollars apiece engines that are designed to carry the enormously over exaggerated weight of the aircraft," Miranda said with a roll of her eyes.

"You said I wasn't afraid of flying!" Andy accused Miranda.

"You never told me you were!" Miranda replied.

"Well let me show you something," Andy took her index finger and drew an imaginary ring around her face, "this, this is me afraid of flying."

"Very mature," Miranda sighed as she lowered her sunglasses, aware of the scene that was being made. She watched as Andy stared out of the window at the enormous metal bird in awe.

"It's not even that big," Miranda commented, "if we were flying from London it would hold another three hundred passengers, it would have another floor!"

"So we're on the smaller plane, to travel for nine hours across an enormous ocean, thank you for not helping," Andy rolled her eyes.

Miranda rolled her eyes and dropped her head in exasperation as she considered what to do next, eventually she took a step forward and put her hand soothingly on the girl's shoulder, "I promise you it is safe, hundreds of thousands of these aircraft fly all across the world every year without incident. Yes, it's noisy and yes it looks daunting but I swear to you it is perfectly safe."

Andy nodded silently as she let the words sink in and Miranda hoped she was getting through to her as she continued, "now, we're going to get on the plane and we're going to take our seats and you'll hate the take-off, I promise you that now, but once we are up in the air you will wonder what all the fuss was about and we'll look back and laugh at this."

After a few moments Andy slowly nodded and continued to walk down the air bridge, "if we die I will never let you hear the end of it," she muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>The take-off had indeed been horrendous and Andy had gritted her teeth and held the armrests in a vice like grip as if under the assumption that the amount of a gap between her and the seat was in some way related to their chances of perishing.<p>

Miranda had no idea how to comfort the woman so she had left her to it as she flicked through the inflight magazine with a critical eye and a sneer. Despite her attentions being focused on the publication she was still very much aware of what was happening next to her. She wondered if allowing the girl the much desired window seat was such a good idea as the brunette flipped between staring in awe and closing her eyes tightly.

A headache had developed in Miranda, she had forgotten how completely exhausting it was to look after someone else constantly, the twins were approaching their tenth year and Miranda had always employed the services of a nanny to assist with their care. Watching over Andréa was like having a second full time job and the stabbing pains in her temple was her body's way of telling her that fact.

Once take-off was complete and Andy had released her killer grip on the poor, innocent armrests Miranda leaned her head back into the leather headrest and closed her eyes with the intent of finally getting some sleep. Miranda was not an expert when it came to the art of sleeping as she spent her entire life in a state of hyper alertness and was constantly aware of her surroundings. It was this annoying habit that allowed Miranda to monitor Andy and her emotions even through her attempts to sleep. She could sense the girl's fear fade and then disappear, she could hear the notes she was writing in her scrappy little notebook, she could practically feel the excitement and smiling emanating from the girl.

After fifty minutes, which seemed like a number of hours, Miranda realised that sleep wasn't going to come and whisk her away. She opened her eyes and tilted her head to face her neighbour, "out with it," she muttered.

"Oh, you're awake!" Andy beamed, "I've been making plans."

"I know," Miranda sighed.

"Sorry, did I keep you awake?" Andy asked although she was unsure how she might have noiselessly achieved that.

Miranda waved her hand, "no, no, tell me what you've been doing."

"Well," Andy began excitedly, "I think I've chosen a hostel, I have three to pick from, just in case the one I've picked is closed or not what I was expecting.."

"Hostel?" Miranda questioned with distaste and a little panic, "you mean hotel? Why would you need a hotel?"

"I don't, I need a hostel," Andy corrected, "somewhere to live. My apartment will be long gone, even if I knew where it was. So I'll get a hostel for now until I find a job and get a couple of months pay and then I can hopefully look for a room in a house.."

Andy allowed her sentence to drift off as she could see the older woman getting agitated with the conversation, "is something wrong?"

"You will not be staying in a New York.. hostel," Miranda almost spat the word out, "you will be staying with me, or course."

In Miranda's mind all of this had been settled and agreed upon and it was only now that she realised the vexing young thing was going to come along and ruin all her planning.

"I can't stay with you forever, Miranda, it's not right and I already owe you so much. No, the sooner I am independent the better," Andy said triumphantly as if agreeing the matter for both parties.

"Who said forever?" Miranda questioned as she pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve some of the stress that was building.

"Whatever, once we land I need to go to one of these three hostels," Andy said with finality as she circled three addresses in her notepad.

Miranda picked the book up and peered at the addresses and frowned, "absolutely not," she replied as she placed the book back on the table in front of Andy, "I forbid it."

Andy's mouth fell open in shock, "excuse me? You what?"

The cabin temperature must have dropped five degrees because even Miranda detected that she may have said something wrong and with a sigh she started again, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to say that. It's just, it, it will be late when we get back to the City. And I don't want you or I to be in those neighbourhoods late at night looking for a hostel when I have a perfectly good house for you to stay in, at least for tonight. Of course you are welcome to stay as long as you like. But at least tonight, and maybe the next night, until you settle. We have so much to do, speak with your new doctors, find your old apartment, locate your friends, find your bank account, so much to do. It would be better for you to remain at the townhouse, at least for the first week."

Andy, still with a face like thunder, took these words under consideration before slowly nodding, "fine, but as soon as the administrative stuff is done I will go to the hostel."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "why a hostel?"

"Because they are extremely cheap, especially if you're unemployed like I am, it's just until I get on my feet again," Andy replied.

Miranda look confused, "but, you're not unemployed."

"Yes, I am," Andy frowned.

"You work for me, you're my second assistant, I've told you all this," Miranda stated as if it were an obvious fact.

Andy smiled incredulously, "I was your second assistant, a year ago. I'm sure you've replaced me by now, and even if you hadn't, I can't do that job now. I know nothing about it, I'd be no help to you at all. And it would be strange to explain to people where I had been and what had happened to me."

Miranda held a hand to her throbbing temple, "you seem intent on causing me pain," she muttered, "and on removing yourself from my presence as soon as humanly possible."

Andy detected the hurt in her tone and shook her head, "that's not true, not at all. I'm sorry your head hurts and I'm sorry my thinking stopped you from being able to sleep. But I want to get back on my feet as soon as possible, I've not been able to do anything for myself for a year and before that I can't even remember. Can you see that I want to be able to be independent? Have a place of my own, find a job? I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to help me."

"I'm trying to help you too," Miranda whispered softly.

"I know," Andy admitted, "and I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you are doing. I know you want to protect me and look after me but I need to do some things myself.."

Miranda remained silently staring at the back of the seat in front of her and Andy gently placed her hand over the older woman's, "do you understand what I'm saying?"

Miranda gave a small single nod.

* * *

><p>The rest of the trip was mainly silent, Miranda dozed on and off for most of the time and Andy sped through books on the iPad as if they were going out of fashion. When it was time to land the air stewardess breezed through the cabin giving out instructions about window blinds, chairs, hand luggage and tables at a dizzying speed and Andy struggled to keep up. She'd decided the whole flying thing was bonkers and a lot of the people who worked for the airline were just enjoying the buzz they received in bossing the first class passengers around.<p>

During the flurry of excitement Miranda opened her eyes and took in the activity around her with a calculating gaze. She pressed a button and returned her seat to its upright position and pushed her hand luggage with her shoeless foot so it was not going to be labelled an obstruction.

Andy looked at the older woman, she wanted to say something but following the hours of uneasy silence she didn't really know what to say. She was so grateful for everything that Miranda was doing for her but Andy felt that she somehow wanted to pay her back. But what Miranda had given her was priceless, it was unpayable, and now she wanted to give her even more. A home, a job, a life. Her old life. But Andy didn't remember that old life so she didn't even know if she wanted that life back.

"Seat belt," Miranda whispered.

"Oh, right, yeah," Andy said as she clipped the belt into place, "thank you."

Miranda nodded and seemed to want to say more, Andy could see an internal struggle taking place within the powerful woman. After a few more moments Miranda spoke so softly Andy could only just hear her over the ambient noise within the aircraft, "I'm sorry if you feel I am.. mothering you.. too much. I don't wish to lay the law down or use words like 'forbid'. It just happens because I worry, I don't want to see you hurt again. I feel I know best and I want to protect you from things but that is wrong, you need to live your own life."

Andy nodded her understanding, "I know, I really appreciate it, I can see you care for me a lot. I think I need to try to take my independence one step at a time too. Not leap in with both feet. We need to meet each other halfway.."

"Agreed," Miranda said with relief, clearly happy with the direction the conversation had taken after their disagreement earlier. The two women shared a smile until the plane banked heavily to the left to approach the runway and Andy closed her eyes and gripped the armrests again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>Thinking ahead, as usual, Miranda had asked for a different driver to usual. It's not that she didn't like or trust Roy but she knew that Roy seeing Andréa would cause countless questions not to mention create an uncomfortable environment. No, the introduction to Roy could be another day.<p>

Although it wouldn't have mattered who the driver was as from the very second they exited the airport to the second the car pulled up outside the townhouse Andréa had been glued to the car window taking in every sight and sound. Now and then she would turn to face Miranda to check the older woman was also looking at the amazing sights New York had to offer and Miranda would simply smile and nod.

Andréa was awestruck and head over heels in love with the City, which was a relief for Miranda who had secretly been concerned that the change in scenery may have proved too much for the younger woman. A small pocket of fear that Andréa would hate New York and would want to return to Paris shrivelled up and died and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief.

As the driver carried the suitcases up the small flight of stone steps and into the townhouse Miranda felt a stomach churning similar feeling, she was atop a flight of stairs expecting Andréa to be beside her or at least right behind her but she wasn't. She spun around and scanned the area for the girl before her eyes settled on her, crouching down beside the car stroking the neighbour's Persian cat. Miranda exhaled the panic and inhaled a calming breath.

"Andréa.." Miranda called softly, wanting to bring the young woman inside to the safety of the house after the long and stressful events of the last few days,

Andy smiled, it seemed that breaking Miranda of the habit of saying Andréa was going to be difficult or impossible. She'd find out which at a later date but for now she let it pass as she stood up and took in the grand house for the first time.

"Wow," she whispered in awe as she climbed the steps and entered the house. Miranda nodded her appreciation to the driver and closed the front door. The older woman watched her companion stroll around the entrance hallway taking in the stairs, the high and ornate ceilings, the wooden doors and the marble floor. Miranda pressed her lips together in a worried, thin line. She had been concerned about this moment as there was a chance that Andréa would remember the house and her time inside it. After all most of it had presumably been unpleasant.

Miranda hated letting people into her private home, truth be told she would like the divide between her personal life and her professional life to be much more defined but that was impossible. As a result she had to allow all manner of people into her home which caused her to become more defensive. She knew she had scared the life out of Andréa a few times when she had delivered the book, she knew because it had been completely intentional. One of Miranda's little pleasures of life.

"You have a beautiful home," Andy announced as she turned around and smiled at Miranda with awe and respect.

"Quite the statement considering you have only seen the hallway," Miranda sniffed with a small but definitely satisfied smile.

"I would happily live in the hallway," Andy replied.

"Well, luckily for you, you don't need to. A guest room has been made for you downstairs," Miranda said as she hung her coat in the closet.

"Downstairs?" Andy questioned as she looked over the bannister rail before turning her whole body to have a look up as well, "how many floors are there?"

"Five," Miranda replied, "the guest area is downstairs, there's a bedroom, an en-suite bathroom and kitchen facilities but I'd love for you to dine with the family if you are agreeable?"

Andy nodded, "of course, I'd prefer to eat with you. Where are your daughters?"

"With my mother, they'll be back next week," Miranda said.

"Have you.. told them? About me.. I mean.." Andy asked.

"Not yet, I will speak with them before they return though."

"Good, I don't want them to feel uncomfortable in their own home," Andy said.

"Why would they?" Miranda questioned in confusion.

Andy took a deep breath and shook her head, "no idea," she replied as she decided to leave that conversation for another time.

"Hmm," Miranda said as if knowing that she had missed something but not worried enough to investigate the matter much further, "do please go down to your room and unpack, freshen up etcetera. I'm going to get changed into something else and then I'll prepare a small dinner if you like?"

"That's very kind of you," Andy said and picked up her holdall.

"Not at all," Miranda replied as she picked up the smaller of her four suitcases, "shall we say thirty minutes?"

* * *

><p>Andy looked around the guestroom in absolute amazement. The basement room was incredible, two large sash windows drew light from the back garden but maintained their privacy by means of an outside wall which was covered in ivy and beautiful lilac roses.<p>

Inside the room was immaculately decorated and presented but somehow seemed homely and comforting, like the feel of a boutique hotel. Soft grey tartan wallpaper matched the soft bedspread on the king sized sleigh-style bed. The furniture was a perfect blend between high-end design and cosy shabby chic and Andy opened one of the full length wardrobe drawers to appreciate the beauty of the design. Once she opened the wardrobe she realised it was full of clothes, beautiful designer clothes. She quickly opened the other door and saw racks of shoes and boots and picked up a couple of shoes to examine them in closer detail. Her size stared back at her so she checked the other garments and shoes, everything was her size.

With a frown Andy turned around and started exploring further. In the bedside cabinet was a large selection of underwear from daily to more special occasions, in the other bedside cabinet was stationery including leather-bound notebooks and a selection of pens.

Andy noticed the door to the bathroom so went in and pulled the cord to activate the spotlights in the ceiling. In the bathroom she saw what seemed to be the entire beauty department of a store, hair brushes, shampoos and conditioners, face cleansers, moisturisers, make-up and perfume. Andy stood in the doorway and stared from the bathroom back to the bedroom in astonishment.

Miranda had taken care of completely everything, anything Andy could need for the next month was in the guest room. Great thought and care had gone into making this temporary stop a genuine home for her and Andy felt touched at the thought of Miranda taking so much time to do this for her.

Andy went back into the bedroom and retrieved her holdall from where she had dropped it in the doorway when she first saw the amazing room. She placed the bag on the luggage rack at the end of her bed and opened the bag and took out her scrappy notebook. She untied the piece of worn leather that held the book closed and released a cheap ballpoint pen from the inner pages and sat on the corner of the bed and started to write.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later Miranda was in the kitchen waiting for a large saucepan of water to boil when she could hear the distinct sound of a lost soul walking around the ground floor of the house.<p>

"In here, Andréa," she called out softly.

A few moments later the younger woman appeared, "I need a map for this place and I've only been on two of the five floors!"

"You'll get used to it," Miranda said with certainty.

"Miranda, we have to talk," Andy said seriously, "my room.."

"Is something wrong?" Miranda asked quickly with a worried look on her face.

"No, nothing like that, it's beautiful, amazing even," Andy tried to calm the older woman who looked like she was about to fire whatever poor employee she thought might be to blame.

"Then..?" Mirada questioned with a concerned look.

"It's too much," Andy said, "I appreciate everything you have done and are doing but, there must be thousands of dollars of clothes down there.."

"You don't have any other clothes," Miranda explained as she indicated what Andy was currently wearing with the wooden spoon she had been holding since the conversation began.

Andy opened her mouth to attempt to reason with the woman but Miranda carried on speaking, "besides, it's just a few bits from the closet, no one would use them. We needed to clear the closet out anyway so really you've done the company a favour. And you needed toiletries, obviously. I don't see the problem," Miranda shook her head as if despairing at her own lack of understanding.

Andy smiled, "it's not a problem.. I'm supremely grateful.." she explained, "I'm just finding it hard to accept all of these generous gifts."

"They're not gifts," Miranda corrected, "they are necessities, toothpaste and the like."

"And Hugo Boss perfume," Andy added with a laugh.

"I believe it was your scent, I'd hoped it would jog your memory," Miranda sniffed as she added pasta into the now bubbling pot of water.

Andy stared at Miranda in disbelief.

After a while Miranda looked up and raised an eyebrow, "what?"

Andy smiled, "you're incredible and you have no idea."

"Hardly," Miranda gave a half laugh, "I take it you like pasta?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>"I know it's getting late and you're probably tired," Miranda started as she placed two bowls of pasta on the small dining table in the kitchen, "but maybe we should open a bottle of wine to toast your homecoming?"<p>

Andy took her seat and looked up at Miranda with a smile, "that would be lovely but I warn you I haven't drunk alcohol for at least a year!"

"Just the one glass then," Miranda nodded as she opened a cupboard door and selected a bottle of white wine.

"This looks delicious," Andy said as she looked at the bowl in front of her and inhaled deeply.

"Reserve your judgement until you have eaten it," Miranda warned as she opened the bottle and poured two glasses and brought them to the table.

"Thank you," Andy said as she took the glass and waited for Miranda to sit down before she raised the glass, "to you, for bringing me home."

"No, no," Miranda said, "to you, for being so extraordinarily brave despite all what you have been through."

Andy tilted her head to one side and shrugged and the women clinked glasses and sipped some of the sweet liquid.

"I'm really not that brave," Andy muttered as she placed the glass down and picked up her fork.

"I beg to disagree," Miranda replied, "you have been amazing throughout all of this, I don't think I would have handled the events of the last couple of days with the calm and grace you have."

"If I've handled it with any calm or grace that's simply because of all the practice I've had for the last year. During my recovery I quickly realised that the French are about procedures and politics and that I couldn't fight it so I just had to let it not bother me," Andy said through bites of her meal, "and this is as delicious as it looks."

"Thank you," Miranda smiled, "and, yes, you are correct that the French are entirely process driven and so hierarchical, I'm surprised French Runway manage to get an edition out every month. But that doesn't take anything away from your remarkable composure, I fear I would be very different if I were in your shoes."

"You'd never have gotten into my shoes," Andy laughed, "if you were missing for more than five minutes I suspect the army would be called in."

Miranda silently tossed a piece of chicken in the thick pasta sauce and Andy looked up to see her troubled expression, "did I say something wrong?"

"No," Miranda sighed, "I just struggle somewhat to think of you there for all that time. I should have checked that you got home safely, I should have, done something.."

"It's absolutely not your fault," Andy said, "I walked away, what was you to do? No, I made my bed, whatever it was that happened to me happened because of my actions and not yours."

Miranda remained silent though she clearly did not accept Andy's argument, "do you remember anything at all about your past? Or the accident?"

Andy considered this for a moment, "it's hard to say, sometimes I get a feeling that I remember something but I don't really know. It's more a sensation, a bit like déjà vu. But I don't remember anything from my accident, I don't know what happened to me at all. I just remember waking up in a hospital and I couldn't understand what was happening, or what was being said.." Andy shook her head to shake off the memory.

Understanding that the memory was difficult to take in Miranda quickly changed the subject, "we have an appointment tomorrow morning at Presbyterian with your new medical team and then in the afternoon we are seeing Michael and he will assist in finding information on any bank accounts you may have as well as any records of where you have lived. Hopefully we will be able to piece together a few things and maybe that will bring out some memories."

Andy nodded, "that is very generous of you but I really can't take up any more of your time, I know that you need to get back to Runway.."

"Nonsense, I make my own schedule," Miranda sniffed.

"I know but I don't want you have to work ridiculous hours to catch up with anything you might have missed because you were with me," Andy insisted, "really, I will be fine. I can find my way around and deal with these things myself, please? I feel terrible for monopolising your time like this, it would make me feel better to know that things are getting back to normal for you, I wouldn't feel like such a burden.."

Miranda seemed to consider this before eventually nodding her agreement, "very well, but the car will take you to your appointments, I don't want you to have to suffer the New York public transport system just yet. And you must take my spare phone so we can keep in touch if necessary.."

Andy nodded, "that sounds like a good compromise.."

With a snort Miranda laughed, "enjoy it, I'm not good with compromise.."


	13. Chapter 13

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>Nigel loved the Runway offices, the modern feel, bright lights and, most of all, glass partitions. The latter of which allowed him to see Miranda approaching his office as he leaned on the high table flipping through photographs. She opened the door and silently entered the room and sat on a stool-type chair in the corner.<p>

"Good morning," he smiled as he carried on sorting photographs into different piles.

"Nigel," she nodded.

"The last time you came to see me and sat on that chair you were debating asking James for a divorce after that whole mess.." he shooed his hand around the table in lieu of finishing the sentence.

"Hmm," Miranda replied reservedly.

"So," Nigel paused his photograph cataloguing to lean on the desk and look at the woman, "how is Andy? More to the point where is Andy?"

"Staying with me, for the meantime," she answered as she looked at the note boards on the wall with distraction.

"That's generous of you," Nigel smiled, knowingly.

"Oh, you too?" Miranda snapped at him.

Nigel held his hands up in mock defence and smiled, "sorry."

Miranda pouted and looked away, "I'm considering firing Claudia.."

"Good idea," Nigel replied.

Miranda looked at him in surprise, "you agree?"

"Absolutely, get rid of her, she's a great second assistant but you need to get her out so you can get Andy back, right?" Nigel said as he turned back to his photographs and continued piling them in stacks around the desk.

"Of all the ridiculous notions, really, Nigel," Miranda sighed, "I really don't know where you would get such an idea from."

"Of course, that would be quite ridiculous," Nigel agreed as he held a photograph up to the light to get a better view of the details of the shot, "because, if you think about it, Andy might not want or even be able to do the job. After all, if you think about it, a series of.. some might say unfortunate.. events, led her to work at Runway in the first place. Would she really have chosen it? No. Is she interested in fashion? No. Was she good at her job? Absolutely, yes. Would she still be? Questionable."

Nigel lowered the photo and looked up at the ceiling as he continued, "if you think about it this is a fresh start for her, something that a lot of people would kill for. Brain injury aside, a chance to examine what you really want from life and start over. Isn't that quite priceless? Especially if you were doing something you didn't love," he lowered his eyes to Miranda, "don't you think?"

Miranda sighed, "yes," she whispered quietly.

Nigel smiled a sad smile for her, "I know you want to turn back time and put everything back to the way it was but you can't. Andy won't work here again, you need to leave her to her own devices to find a new path."

"I.." Miranda started but stopped.

"You?" Nigel pressed.

"I, just.. I want to help," Miranda eventually replied.

"Sometimes help comes in the form of space and time," Nigel said with a shrug, "can I ask you a question?"

Miranda looked at him and nodded.

"Let's say, God forbid, Emily gets hit by a taxi, again. Total amnesia. Would Emily be convalescing at Chez Priestly?"

"No, of course not," Miranda rolled her eyes, "Emily has family and presumably this taxi is a New York taxi so she wouldn't have been stranded in Paris for the past year!"

"So, is Andy staying with you because of the guilt you feel?" Nigel pressed.

Miranda considered this, "I suppose so, yes," she admitted, "I do feel that there was more I could have, no, should have done. Once Andréa had walked away that is.."

"You couldn't have known.." Nigel said.

"She was in a foreign country, because of me, I am ultimately responsible for her wellbeing," Miranda said as she slid from the stool onto her four-inch heels and started pacing the room.

"I have another question," Nigel said as he picked up a pen from the desk and started to twirl it in his fingers.

Miranda stopped pacing and looked at him to continue.

"Is it.. just.. guilt?"

Miranda blinked, "what.. what do you mean?"

"This.. protectiveness you feel for her.. is it just because of guilt or do you maybe feel deeper for Andy than you might for someone else in that situation?" Nigel asked with a neutral expression.

"Will you come to the house for dinner tomorrow evening?" Miranda asked as she casually glossed over the subject, "I would like Andréa to slowly meet the Runway staff to see if any memories return."

"I'd love to," Nigel replied with a warm smile. The Editor nodded and left the office without looking back.

* * *

><p>Ordinarily Miranda would work late when the girls were away from the house but despite the mountains of work that had formed during her absence she left the office early, telling herself that she was definitely not rushing home to see Andréa. Throughout the day she had considered calling or texting the girl to see how she was getting on but she had managed to refrain and instead had the driver give her updates on their whereabouts. She realised that she had released a breath that she didn't even know she was holding once she was notified of Andréa's return to the townhouse.<p>

Not long after Miranda had decided to call it a day and called Roy to take her home. Half way through the journey Roy had looked at the rear view mirror, "excuse me, Miranda?"

Miranda looked up and raised an eyebrow for him to continue.

"I heard about Andy, I just wanted to say if there is anything I can do.." he trailed off as obviously there was nothing he could do but he clearly wanted to show his support.

"Thank you, Roy," Miranda gave a small smile, "once she has settled in then perhaps you should both have coffee, reintroduce yourself and see if you can help jog some memories?"

Roy beamed and nodded happily, "that would be great, as I say, anything I can do to help."

Miranda nodded her agreement and appreciation of his efforts.

* * *

><p>Miranda opened the front door and was surprised when she was greeted by the most delicious of smells. She quickly placed her coat in the closet before making her way across the entrance hallway towards the kitchen. When she arrived at the doorway she smiled and leaned on the doorframe at the scene.<p>

Andréa had annihilated the kitchen with shopping bags, packaging, all manner of food stuffs and an abundance of either flour or sugar which had, obviously recently, exploded across the worktop.

"A year in Paris and this is the legacy," Miranda joked and smiled as Andréa spun around in surprise.

"Oh! You're home!" Andy laughed, "it looks worse than it is and I swear I'll clean up when I'm done!"

"Done doing what?" Miranda questioned with a raised eyebrow as she evaluated what was being prepared.

"Cooking you dinner," Andy beamed, "three courses, you better be hungry. Stop looking," Andy chastised as the older woman came closer to inspect what was happening, "go and sit over there, or get changed into an eating outfit or something.."

Miranda took a seat at the kitchen table, "I'll sit here," she smiled, clearly wanting to watch Andy destroy her kitchen further.

Andy shrugged and turned to remove a large saucepan from the hob, "I had the best day!"

"Wonderful, I take it everything went well?" Miranda smiled.

"Yes, my doctors are great. We've figured out a schedule for physiotherapy and they are going to try a few new memory techniques so that's great. Michael is lovely," Andy said looking up with a smile, "he found that I have three bank accounts, two were practically empty but the third, woo, I have money!"

"Congratulations," Miranda couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm Andy was giving off.

"Yeah, seems I was good with money because I had some savings. So I thought I'd cook you a nice dinner to celebrate," Andy pointed at the cutlery she had left on the side of table and two wine glasses, "as you're here, could you lay the table?"

Miranda nodded and stood up and begun placing the two sets of cutlery around the table.

"Oh and I have stuff in storage, so that's where my stuff is, I'll get access to that in a couple of days," Andy said as she consulted a cookery book, "oh and I have big news, so exciting!"

Miranda placed a wine glass on the table and picked up the other, "oh yes?"

"Yes, I have a date!" Andy said with a beaming smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>"I'm fine," Miranda muttered through gritted teeth.<p>

"Let me see," Andy insisted as she took Miranda's clenched hands out from under the cold water tap in the kitchen and inspected the blood soak wound, "it isn't get deep, thankfully!"

"Mmm," Miranda said as she took her hand back and applied a wet towel to the centre of her palm and closed her hand around it to stem the bleeding.

"That glass just shattered.." Andy commented.

"Yes, it was old and fragile, the dishwasher must have cracked it," Miranda said cautiously, "you were saying you had big news?"

"Oh, yes," Andy said with a smile as she returned to the opposite kitchen worktop where she appeared to be preparing some diced chicken, "I have a date, tomorrow evening!"

"Wow," Miranda said with forced enthusiasm, "that's rather soon, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, that's what I thought but then I thought you only live once so why not? You know?" Andy said with her back to Miranda.

"Not really," Miranda muttered.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that?" Andy looked over her shoulder.

"I said who with?" Miranda gave her best faux smile.

"It's someone I met at Michael's office, he is one of the junior partners, David," Andy replied, "he was really nice and we really hit it off, you know?"

"Mmm," Miranda said as she peeled back the towel to look at the cut on her palm and practiced stretching her hand to check the bleeding had stopped.

Andy turned around with the knife still in her hand, "that is okay, isn't it? You hadn't made plans, had you?"

Miranda shook her head, "no, no plans."

Andy smiled, "great," she nodded to herself and carried on with her preparation.

"If you'll excuse me, I better change into my eating outfit," she remarked as she quickly left the kitchen.

As Miranda approached the second floor of the house the front doorbell rang and with a roll of the eyes she turned and started to make her way downstairs again, she approached the front door at about the same time Andy appeared in the hallway from the kitchen.

"I completely forgot," Miranda confessed as she opened the front door and a large brown and white Saint Bernard dog came bounding into the hallway and happily sniffed at Miranda's leg as she thanked the dog sitter and closed the door. The dog dashed over to Andy and started to bark a happy but loud bark.

"Down girl," Andy smiled, "Patricia, that's enough, quietly now.."

Miranda stared at Andy in stunned silence as Andy's eyes bulged and she realised what she had said. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared in shock at the dog as she whispered, "Patricia.."

Patricia happily wagged her tail and sat on the floor panting with excitement as she stared from one silent woman to the other.

After a while Miranda broke the silence as she asked in disbelief, "y-you.. you, remember. The. Dog?"

The hurt in her face was evident and Andy felt the need to defend herself, "I don't choose what I remember!"

Miranda continued to stare at Andy in shock for a few more moments before shaking her head in disbelief and silently walking up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: Set at the end of Paris fashion week exactly one year after Andy walked away from Miranda. Andy hasn't been seen nor heard from since that day and a French journalist by the name Samuel Durand is determined that they meet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>A couple of hours passed and there was no sign of Miranda returning. Andy stood in the hallway looking at the stately staircase rising up to the upper levels of the townhouse with a frown. She'd never been upstairs so she had no idea what lurked up there and she wasn't even sure if she was welcome, especially if the look on Miranda's face was anything to go by.<p>

In the time since Miranda had left Andy had finished preparing the meal and placed it in containers in the refrigerator. She had then cleaned the kitchen and returned everything to the way she had found it. Now she wondered if Miranda was ever going to come back down, surely she was hungry? Then again maybe she had a kitchen up there, or maybe the girls had chocolate stashed away in their rooms. Andy grinned to herself at the thought of Miranda raiding a child's chocolate supply rather than coming downstairs.

Andy knew that there were two outcomes, either she went upstairs or Miranda came down. For some reason Andy had a strong feeling that going upstairs would be the wrong thing to do, so she was left with Miranda coming down, which didn't seem likely.

Eventually Andy turned the downstairs lights off to give up for the night. She started to make her way down to the basement level when she heard the distinctive sound of a key in the front door. She paused on the stairs and stood stone still as she listened to the noises in the darkness. Her heart raced and she briefly wondered if Miranda had somehow evaded her and gone out.

Aa she was a few steps down the stairs Andy's eye was level with the marble floor of the entrance hall and she approached the bannister spindles and held on to them as she strained her eyes to see to see what was happening to the left.

The key found its destination and the door opened and after a few moments closed again with a small bang.

"Shh!" a female voice said to the door in despair.

Then the sound of heels clacking on the hard floor before the sound of the closet door being opened and the sound of rustling and cursing. Andy pushed her face right into the bars of the spindles and she could make out a figure emerging from the closet and kicking the door closed behind them.

The streetlight from outside filtered through the glass of the front door and Andy could make out a young woman dressed in a long coat and carrying a handbag and two shoulder bags clutching something big to her chest. She clacked her way to a table opposite Andy and placed the item on the table.

"I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job," the woman muttered as she straightened the item and fussed with the flowers in the vase before rushing out of the house again.

Once all was quiet Andy hesitantly climbed the stairs and walked over to table to look at what had been placed there. She smiled as she saw a large hard-backed mock-up with RUNWAY written in large letters across the top. Andy looked towards the stairs and smiled a large, evil smile.

* * *

><p>The chair was so comfortable that it hadn't taken long for Andy to fall asleep but she was soon being woken up by the feeling of someone pulling on her. Or more precisely, pulling something away from her.<p>

Andy's eyes flew open and she gripped the book even tighter to prevent Miranda from taking it from her.

"Give me the book," Miranda muttered, "you're impossible."

"Yep, I don't remember much but I know that about me," Andy said in defiance from the comfortable armchair she had dragged from the study into the hall. She wondered how long she had been sat hugging the book before Miranda had come down to pull her treasure away.

Miranda was leaning over her using her height over the sitting woman as an advantage as she pulled on the book. However Andy was happily giving the book a full body hug to prevent it being taken.

"I need to work," Miranda said in frustration.

"We need to talk," Andy corrected.

"There's nothing to say," Miranda said as she gave up and released her grip. She stood over Andy with her hands on her hips and glared down at the younger woman.

"Yes, there is!" Andy declared, "I've upset you and I want to apologise!"

"The best apology would be to give me," Miranda dived back to grab the book but Andy increased her grip at the exact same time, "The. Book!"

"I'm sorry I remembered Patricia and not you," Andy said while holding the book with all of her might, "it just came out, I don't remember anything specific, just in the heat of the moment I knew her name."

Miranda let go of the book and sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "yes, I know," she whispered quietly.

Andy breathed a sigh of relief, the Editor was finally caving in.

"Although my memories aren't flooding back I am getting.. sensations, feelings about things," Andy said, "I can't explain it but I have this very strong feeling about you, I know you were important to my life.."

Miranda gave a derisive laugh but seemed secretly pleased to hear this news.

"Remembering Patricia's name means those memories must be in there somewhere, that part of the brain must still be functioning," Andy smiled, "I'll remember. I promise."

"No, no," Miranda gave a sad smile, "you mustn't make such promises, you may not be able to do so. Yes, remembering Patricia's name is positive news but let's take it one step at a time."

Andy nodded as she stared up at the exhausted looking woman, "you look tired, would you like something to eat?"

Miranda shook her head, clearly not ready to fully commit to this forgiving business just yet, "no, I think I will look at the book in bed and have an early night."

With a small smile Andy held up the book and Miranda accepted it with a grateful nod.

"Goodnight, Miranda," Andy said as Miranda started to climb the stairs.


	16. Chapter 16

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>Nigel looked up to see Miranda open the glass door to his office and take her, now customary, place on the stool.<p>

"Good morning," Nigel smiled as he continued to hand draw a feature-page layout with a pencil.

"I'm afraid that dinner is.. delayed," Miranda said softly.

"Oh," Nigel said without emotion, "well, let me know when it's back on."

Miranda nodded and seemed to wait for Nigel to say more but the bald man continued silently drawing.

"Andréa has made other plans," Miranda half-explained.

"Ah," Nigel muttered, "well, another night then."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "Andréa has a date, Nigel, a date!"

Nigel watched with a sigh as the older woman slid from the stool and started pacing his office.

"I see," he said as he removed his glasses and started cleaning the lenses.

"What?" Miranda turned and stared at him, "what do you see?"

"That Andy has a date," Nigel answered with a smile.

"Why on earth are you smiling, Nigel? Dinner is cancelled!" Miranda said as if she were announcing the end of days.

"Well, ours is," Nigel pointed out.

Miranda sniffed, "she doesn't even know him, of course, and she remembers the dog!"

"He has a dog?" Nigel asked with confusion.

"No, Nigel," Miranda sighed in exasperation, "do keep up, she remembers Patricia!"

"So, she remembers your dog, that's wonderful news!" Nigel smiled but the smile vanished from his face when he saw Miranda's expression was still thundery, "or apparently not."

"I'm afraid I don't see what's so wonderful about it," Miranda shook her head in dismay.

"Well, ignoring the fact that she has managed to recover any memories at all, she remembered your dog, which is a direct connection to you, is it not?" Nigel said as he held his glasses up to the light to ascertain if he had removed all of the smudges.

"Why would that matter?" Miranda sniffed.

"I don't know, I just thought I'd mention it," Nigel replaced his glasses with a half-smile.

"She doesn't even know him," Miranda announced.

"We're back to the date again, yes?" Nigel asked.

Miranda glared at him and he gave a soft chuckle.

"I fail to see what is so amusing," Miranda continued her glare.

"Nothing," he answered with a smile, "let me know when our dinner is rearranged."

"You clearly have something else to say, Nigel, out with it," she said.

Nigel picked up the pencil again and stood up straight as he looked at Miranda, "for some reason, and I'll allow you to come to your own conclusion on this, you are jealous."

Miranda looked at him in shock before blurting out, "preposterous!"

Nigel laughed and leaned back onto the desk to continue his design.

"Never heard anything so ridiculous, and that," she pointed at his design, "needs to change, I told you before, no more wind machines, blowing the models around, they'll snap like twigs, Really, Nigel," she shook her head before stalking from his office.

* * *

><p>Miranda prowled down the corridors of the office delivering piercing glares in all directions to anyone who dared look up at her. After a few circuits of the floor she decided to return to her own office and walked down an often unused corridor towards Emily's desk. As she approached she could hear Emily and Claudia whispering to each other so she slowed down to overhear their conversation.<p>

"It's disgusting," Emily whispered and Miranda stepped a little closer to be able to hear more.

"Yeah," Claudia agreed, "it's not right."

"He's sixty two for God's sake!" Emily said in despair.

"And she's, what, twenty three?" Claudia asked.

"Yes," Emily replied as Miranda spun around and walked in the opposite direction again.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later Nigel grudgingly approached Miranda's office to have another discussion about the layout because dammit he needed that wind machine. He looked into the office at an empty desk and looked at Emily with a raised eyebrow, "where?"<p>

"No idea, we're just enjoying the peace," Emily said as her phone chirped, "well, almost peace. Parents!"

"What's wrong?" Nigel asked as Emily started typing out a reply on her phone.

"Her dad is dating a new woman," Claudia answered while typing an email, "she is much younger and her mom has flipped."

"They've been divorced for six years," Emily said, "but mother is being awful, disgusting really, saying all kinds of things about Daddy. I mean, who cares who he is dating as long as he is happy, right?"

Nigel nodded, "sometimes an age gap is a good thing, balances people out. So, you have no idea where she is?"

"Nope," Emily said with a smile, "pure bliss.."

After a further quarter of an hour of looking around the Runway offices Nigel finally found Miranda in the executive ladies toilets beside the main meeting room. He had known she was in there because he had literally looked everywhere else. By the time he approached the toilets he was a little fed up at having to take forty five minutes out of his working day so he pushed the door open with so much force that it loudly cracked on the opposite wall.

Miranda, who had been staring at her own reflection in the large, unflatteringly lit, mirror above the row of sinks, jumped in shock at the loud noise. She placed her hand over her heart and shook her head while glaring at Nigel's reflection in the mirror.

"Found you," Nigel smiled back, "now I'll go hide and you count to ten.."

Miranda shook her head in dejection, "I'm too old for such foolishness, Nigel," she took her eyes from him and focused on her own face again.

"Entirely too old," she muttered.

"Oh come on, you're not old," Nigel said as he strolled over to Miranda and folded his arms as he leaned on the wall.

"I am, Nigel, far too old," she turned to look at him and with an expression of dead seriousness added, "I think I'm having a midlife crisis.."

"Midlife crisis? You're planning to live until one hundred and eight?"

"One hundred and sixteen," Miranda corrected, "don't believe Wikipedia.."

"Oh, I don't," Nigel laughed, "not since second assistant number three was fired and she listed you as, I believe, sixty six years of age.."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "however old I am, it's clearly old. I'm having a midlife crisis. Aren't you supposed to be supportive during this time of mental anguish?"

"You're not having a midlife crisis, what makes you think you are?" Nigel questioned.

"Everything," Miranda said, unhelpfully.

Nigel raised his eyebrow and waited patiently for Miranda to continue, "I don't know, I'm confused. Emotional. My mind is playing tricks on me. I need you to take over Runway for a while, think of it as a practice run for our succession plans."

"No," Nigel shook his head.

"What do you mean, no?" Miranda asked, "I'm having a midlife crisis, support me!"

"You're not having a midlife crisis," Nigel assured her, "it's Friday, go home and rest for the weekend and see how you feel on Monday. I assure you that you'll feel better."

Miranda sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know what medical qualifications Nigel was hiding to be so sure of her state of mind. But she did feel exhausted and maybe a rest was what she needed.

* * *

><p>"That must be so weird!" David said as he poured more wine into Andy's empty glass.<p>

"Yeah, but trust me, you get used to it," Andy laughed, "every single thing for the last twelve months has been weird, I take it all in my stride now. I figure I'm lucky to be alive, whatever happened to me, I'm lucky to walk away from it. So now I want to live my life."

"That's a really great attitude, I don't think I'd be that cool about it," David admitted.

"You'd be amazed, I don't think I'm a particularly brave person. You should have seen me getting on the plane to come home!"

"Bad?" David grimaced with a smile.

"The worse," Andy sniggered, "God it was embarrassing, thank God Miranda was there to sort me out."

"Amazing that she found you," David commented.

"Mmm," Andy agreed as she sipped her wine, "Samuel really did it all, I need to call him, I just can't thank him enough. I'd still be there if it weren't for him!"

David saw the darkness fall over Andy's bright features and quickly changed the subject, "so, what's Miranda's house like? It must be awesome?"

Andy appeared to shake the cobwebs out and looked up with a smile, "I never want to leave, the guestroom is the stuff of dreams!"

"Is Miranda as scary as she seems?" David whispered as if worried the fabled Editor might magically appear at the very sound of her name.

"God no," Andy laughed loudly, "she's a pussycat, really sweet and caring. Not that she wants anyone to know that, but she's really lovely."

David looked surprised, "my boss has known her for years and I got the impression there was more to her than what the papers say. Well, he really likes her anyway.."

Andy frowned, "Likes her likes her? Or just likes her?"

"Nothing like that," David said quickly, "he's happily married, I just meant he seems to think she is a good person. And he is a pretty good judge of character."

"Oh," Andy said, not sure why she'd asked, "yeah, well, she's nice to me!"

"Who couldn't be nice to you?" David asked before grimacing, "sorry, that sounded terrible, I didn't mean that to sound like that!"

Andy laughed, "it's fine, don't worry."

"What I meant," David said as he took a sip of wine, "is that you're a lovely person so I can't imagine anyone not getting on with you, better?"

"Much!" Andy laughed and raised her glass for a toast.


	17. Chapter 17

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13 for now, later chapters will go higher

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>Andy quietly opened the townhouse front door and stepped inside, she turned around and waved to David who had walked her home and he smiled and returned the silent wave. He hadn't wanted Andy to make her own way home but he was also dead against coming into the house and potentially meeting Miranda. Andy thought him silly at first until she thought back to her overreaction back in Paris when she had first read newspaper articles about Miranda's difficult nature. She'd realised the woman and the myth were difficult to separate and she was gradually beginning to understand more and more what Miranda was about.<p>

Andy closed the door and then leaned against it to remove her shoes, clearly getting used to wearing these styles of shoes was a long process that she would need to practice. She'd only been out for a few short hours and most of that she had spent sitting in a restaurant and already Andy was limping. As she turned to face the hallway she could see a dim light coming from Miranda's study as she walked towards the room she noticed the Runway Book lay on the table in the hallway seemingly untouched.

The young woman peaked her head around the corner of the study to see Miranda sitting in a soft looking arm chair with her legs curled up beneath her reading a book. A small reading light above the seat bathed the room in a cosy glow and the blanket Miranda had placed over her legs completed the picture of a perfect evening in.

Without looking up Miranda asked, "did you have a nice evening?"

Andy smiled and walked into the room and sat on the sofa opposite Miranda, "yes, really nice. He is a lovely man."

"Good," Miranda nodded while still reading her book.

"What are you reading?" Andy asked as she tried to angle her head down to see the name of the title.

Miranda silently held up the book for Andy to read the cover.

Andy smiled, "Dickens!"

Miranda nodded, "yes, it occurred to me that I haven't read this since I was a little girl, many years ago," she added with a sigh, "Bleak House was always my favourite Dickens book."

Andy could tell that Miranda's mood had improved but there was still something off, something was clearly bothering her but she doubted very much that Miranda would want to discuss it.

"Can I get you a drink? Some tea?"

Miranda shook her head in the negative, "no, thank you."

"Have you eaten?" Andy asked with thinly veiled concern.

Miranda placed her book in her lap and smiled, "actually, I have. I ate some of the delicious meal you prepared yesterday, clearly you are an accomplished chef."

Andy blushed a little, "no, I'm just good at following instructions."

Miranda blushed a little as well and cleared her throat as she continued, "Nigel, a dear friend and work colleague, would love to come over and meet you again sometime soon. If that is acceptable?"

Andy nodded, "yeah, that sounds great, I'm free whenever he is!"

Miranda frowned and elusively queried, "no more dates with Darren?"

"David," Andy corrected with a smile as she got the feeling Miranda knew that all too well, "no, no more dates with David."

Miranda's frown deepened, "oh, I thought you had a nice evening?"

"Oh we did," Andy smiled, "as I said he is a really nice guy but more of a friend, you know? I just didn't feel anything for him."

Miranda's smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, "oh, I see, well that's erm.. yes, I see.."

"So whenever Nigel wants to meet up that would be great, except tomorrow morning," Andy added as if she just remembered something.

"What is happening tomorrow morning?" Miranda asked.

"I get the key to the storage unit where all my stuff is," Andy said with hesitant excitement.

"I see," Miranda said as she studied the younger woman, "would you like company tomorrow?"

Andy looked relieved, she had wanted to ask for Miranda's assistance but she was nervous to do so in light of recent events, "yes, please, I'd very much like you to be there."

Miranda smiled, there was a difference between wanting company and specifically wanting her and for some reason it warmed Miranda's heart that the brunette had made that distinction.

"What time would you like to be there?"

"The office opens at nine and I kinda want to be there first thing," Andy said, "it's by Central Park, West Eighty-Fourth.."

Miranda considered this information, "we'll leave at quarter to nine, that will give us plenty of time. I'll take the Range."

Andy blinked, she had only seen Miranda be driven around by chauffeur driven cars and hadn't even considered the idea of Miranda driving herself, never mind a large Range Rover.

Miranda seemed to sense Andy's confusion, "in case you wish to bring any items back with you," she clarified.

Andy nodded, "yes, I see, that would be great. Thank you so much.."

Miranda waved her hand in distracted disinterest, if the creature was going to go down the route of ceaseless thanking then Miranda would have to return to Dickens. Andy quietened quickly but with a broad smile as she realised Miranda was beginning to get uncomfortable. It was taking a while longer than it did with other people but Andy was beginning to understand how this woman worked.

"Right, I better get to bed then! I'll see you in the morning," Andy said as she stood up. She received a small hum from Miranda which she took to be version of the older woman's farewell and best wishes.


	18. Chapter 18

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M for adult themes ***Please Note Change of Rating***

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>The creaking of the bedroom door opening awoke Miranda from her sleep and she opened her eyes. The illumination from the bedside lamp allowed her to see a figure standing in the doorway, which was strange because she never left the light on. As her eyes focused she sat up a little in bed and felt her throat go instantaneously dry, swallowing hard she tried to speak but nothing came out.<p>

Andréa stood in the doorway with one hand on her hip and the other allowing her to casually lean on the doorframe, she wore dark red silk panties and bra, both trimmed with black lace. The Calvin Klein Boudoir collection from 2011, Miranda thought distantly. Andréa's long hair softly curled around her pale shoulders and somewhere deep down Miranda wondered when the girl had grown her hair again. The contrast of the pale, milky skin and the dark lingerie as well as the darkness of her eyes spellbound the older woman.

Miranda couldn't manage to speak as she stared at the woman standing in the doorway and opened and closed her mouth with no sound coming forth.

"Shh," Andréa whispered with a soft yet suggestive smile as she took a step into the room, "no need to speak, I'm just here to make you feel better."

Miranda sat up in bed and pulled her sheet a little higher to cover herself as Andréa slinked further into the room, "Andréa.." she finally whispered.

"Yes," she smiled, obviously enjoying that she had Miranda so utterly disoriented, "what's all this nonsense about a midlife crisis, hm?"

Andréa tutted and wagged a finger at Miranda, "you know you're not having a midlife crisis, don't you Darling?"

Miranda stared in shock and trepidation as Andréa approached the end of the bed and stared at Miranda as if she were ravenous, "I.. I don't.. I don't.. don't know," Miranda eventually whispered.

"That feeling in your stomach, the one you attribute to guilt," Andréa whispered, "you know that's not guilt, don't you?"

Miranda just swallowed hard in reply.

Andréa climbed up the bed too quickly for Miranda to react and climbed onto and straddled the Editor. Leaning on her elbows on either side of the older woman, not touching but close enough for Miranda to feel the heat pulsating from her lingerie-clad body through the sheet, Andréa whispered, "you know that's desire, don't you? You desire me, Miranda, you want me. Don't you?"

With the younger woman's face mere inches from her own Miranda woke up with a jolt and sat bolt upright in her empty bed. Breathing heavily her eyes raced around the darkness of the room to assure herself that she was alone. After a few moments her breathing returned to normal and, with a frustrated sigh, she flopped backwards onto her pillow in vexation.

* * *

><p>(Sorry people!)<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>The next morning Miranda got up early and began working on the Book. Whereas other people may have considered work to get in the way of their personal life Miranda was a firm believer that work was a great distraction. Work helped her to avoid the real world and it was a wonderful excuse, saying you can't do something because you don't want is somewhat lacklustre but saying you can't do something because you have to work is perfectly acceptable.<p>

For years Miranda had reaped the benefits of burying herself in her work as an avoidance tactic. Of course she enjoyed her work and over the time she had worked at Runway she had become immensely proud of her work. However such a work ethic came at a price, Miranda could catalogue the most disastrous of her life events through Runway issues, layouts, trends, models, advertising revenue and circulation numbers. Most people would remember the death of a parent by year, Miranda remembered her father's death as the sixteen page spread on the sixties revival haircuts, shoes and hems that were making a resurgence. Her birth of her girls? The first ever Runway front page without a model, celebrating the launch of technology chic.

So it came as no surprise to Miranda that the recent events had caused her to throw herself back into Runway with a renewed passion but something was very different this time. This time she seemed unfocused, distracted. It had taken her longer than usual to go through the Book, she had changed her mind on several key aspects and the amount of screw up notes in her usually empty wastepaper basket was growing by the minute.

It was eight o'clock in the morning, a mere forty-five minutes before they were due to leave for the storage unit to uncover what lurked in Andréa's belongings and the young woman had yet to show herself. Usually this would not have even registered for Miranda as she would have been too wrapped in her work to have noticed. But for some reason this morning she was preoccupied with thoughts of where the brunette was.

With a sigh Miranda removed her glasses and placed them on the open book in front of her. She closed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest as she leaned back in her chair and took in the events of the last few days, desperately attempting to avoid the unexpected dream from the previous night. She wondered what the storage unit may hold, according to Nigel it was all of Andréa's belongings from when she broke up with her boyfriend. There was a chance that there was going to be a wealth of memory evoking materials hoarded away. Equally there was a chance that Andréa had used the opportunity to clear out a lot of old junk and the unit may just contain old furniture.

Miranda found herself wondering about Andréa's memory of Patricia, why was the dog a memory for her? What was it about the slobbering old girl that caused Andréa to recall her, even if only for a moment? Was Patricia a good memory, a bad one? Did memory retrieval work like that? Would a memory be supplied in a moment of stress or in a moment of relaxed calm of happiness? With a smug smile she considered the fact that in the whole of New York all Andréa had recalled to date was Patricia. There was a small sense of satisfaction, now that the dejection had passed, in Andréa remembering something that was so closely connected to Miranda.

"Miranda?" the soft voice shook her out of her thoughts and she opened her eyes to see Andréa standing in the doorway, "I'm not disturbing you am I?"

"Not at all," Miranda said as she sat forward in an attempt to seem disaffected by the young woman's arrival.

"Good," she smiled warmly, "how did you sleep?"

Miranda coughed a little, "why do you ask?"

"Well, you've been having trouble sleeping.." Andy indicated.

"Oh," Miranda said, remembering the previous discussions, "yes, I slept, fine, very well in fact."

"Good!" Andy smiled before adding with a sigh, "I hardly got a wink of sleep.."

"No?" Miranda questioned, "any particular reason?"

"I don't know," Andy said honestly, "I think I'm just nervous about what I'll find today.. I think some breakfast is what I need, to settle the stomach!"

Andréa prepared a quick breakfast and before long the two were on their way to the storage unit.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>The journey to the storage unit was made in silence, mainly because Andy was nervous and could detect that Miranda was in a strange mood for some reason. Andy desperately didn't want to have another disagreement with the woman, she may have been fairly new to Miranda and her strange quirks but she already knew when it was time to leave the woman to her thoughts. The previous night when she couldn't sleep Andy had gone searching for new reading material in Miranda's study, while Miranda had allowed her to keep the iPad there was something cold and mechanical about it. Seeing Miranda curled up under a blanket had Andy crave a hard-backed paper book. Along the study bookshelves she saw all manner of books from a number of authors and a variety of genres, many of them were special editions with beautifully constructed covers that seemed to compliment the room. Trust Miranda to be someone who tailored the books in her collection to suit the wallpaper.<p>

After picking up a copy of The BFG Andy went to make her way back down to the guestroom but paused momentarily in the hallway as she saw the Runway mock-up laying undisturbed on a table. She glanced around to ensure that Miranda was not around and opened the front cover of the book where she saw a picture of Miranda for the Editor's Letter, while the text was missing Andy found herself staring at the page for a long while before flipping over to another page.

Hastily taped photographs, sticky notes and more littered the pages that were under construction. Some of the pages were completely empty aside from a title or a hand drawing, some of the pages were practically completed with the look of a teenage girl's scrap book in their assembly. After a while Andy had realised that she was standing in the hallway reading when there was a perfectly good study just next to her. With a final check of the surrounding area Andy gently picked the book up and went into the study to read the mock-up from cover to cover, trying to immerse herself in the world where Miranda lived and have a greater understanding of what it all meant.

"We're here," Miranda's voice shook Andy from her daydream of the previous night and she sat up as she looked at the vast facility.

"Wow," Andy whispered, "I hope they don't expect me to remember the unit number.."

Miranda nodded as she parked the large Range Rover by the main office. They entered the main office which was a small and cramped shop selling boxes, tape and an assortment of moving equipment. There was a high desk built across one wall with shelving overflowing with paperwork behind the desk. Also behind the desk was a tall and large framed man with a scruffy beard, he was wearing a bright red t-shirt and baseball cap both emblazoned with the company logo.

"Hey again! Long-time no see, you cut your hair," he smiled when he saw Andy.

"Er, yeah," Andy said hesitantly as she approached the desk.

"We thought you'd vanished, boss said you'd be stopping by today, Sachs isn't it?"

Andy nodded, "yes, Andrea Sachs.."

The man smiled warmly and started typing on a computer, "Sachs.. Sachs.. here we are, right that's twelve months, plus the admin, plus the tax, plus the security and then the lost key, I presume you don't have your key?"

Andy shook her head in the negative.

"Plus lost key, new key, a month up front, that will be two thousand six hundred and forty three dollars and eighty nine cents," he said with a chipper smile as he looked at Andy.

"What?" Andy asked in shock.

"Two thousand six hundred.." he began again with a frown.

"Yes, I heard, wow, I.. I don't have that money.." Andy hesitated, "look, I've had a head injury, amnesia, I had no idea I had this storage locker and my life is in it and I really need to see it.."

The man nodded his head in understanding, "yeah, but it's been twelve months since the last payment, you said you'd be back in two weeks so we put you onto a rolling plan in a long term unit when you didn't show, there's an admin and a moving charge for that, our long term units have security details to protect your belongings. And you lost your key so there's a fee for that and a fee for the new one."

"I, look, I literally just got out of hospital.." Andy started again.

"Yes, but I can't give you access until the account has been paid up," the man shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"Can I set up a payment plan or something?" Andy tried.

Miranda had been looking around the shop part of the office with disbelieving scorn at the presentation of the products while all of this had been going on but by this point she had had enough and approached the desk and slammed her American Express on the counter top, "pay the account, get me the key."

The man looked from Andy to Miranda, "is she with you?"

Andy ignored him and looked at Miranda, "you don't have to do this, I can figure it out another way.."

Miranda ignored Andy, "yes, I am with her," she addressed the baseball capped staff member and looked him up and down before focusing on his name badge, "pay the account and get me the key, Terry."

Terry wisely grabbed the card and started inputting data into his computer while Andy continued to implore Miranda, "really, Miranda, I already owe you so much.."

Miranda looked at Andy with a confused look, "you don't owe me anything, Andréa."

"Unit seventy two," Terry said as he put a key with an enormous wooden keychain on the table, "out of the doors, go to your left, second on your right and then fifth on the left."

Miranda nodded her understanding and swiped the key and her card from the desk and stalked out of the office.


	21. Chapter 21

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thank you all for your kind words, the feedback to this story has been really appreciated!

* * *

><p>Outside unit seventy two Miranda stopped and handed Andy the key with a nod to the industrial strength padlock keeping the metal shuttered doors closed. Andy took a deep breath and bent down to unlock and remove the padlock and then pulled up the shutters and pushed them out of the way. The light from the corridor provided a small amount of light inside the storage unit and the two women stepped in and looked around. Andy saw a button just inside the unit and pressed it and a large, bright fluorescent tube sprung into life flickering a few times before finally illuminating the room.<p>

Miranda was looking around in awe and turned to Andy, "it appears you're a hoarder."

Andy nodded as she looked around at countless boxes, black sacks, carrier bags and pieces of furniture, "there was a part of me that was worried that there would be nothing in here."

"Well," Miranda whispered as she took in a panoramic view of the collection, "you can safely put that fear to bed."

The boxes looked hastily packed and none of them were labelled, the sacks and carrier bags looked like someone was in a hurry and had run out of boxes. Nothing gave an indication as to what was hiding within the unit and Andy looked completely lost as she stared around at the enormous task ahead.

Miranda rolled her eyes at the lack of action, "well, what now?"

"I don't know," Andy replied, "I can't take all of this back to your house, it would fill it!"

"Then I suggest we start looking through the.. stuff," Miranda sighed at her own vocabulary, "and decide what you would like to take back with you now and what can say."

Andy nodded her agreement but still made no effort to move.

"I would suggest we leave the furniture and start with the boxes?" Miranda suggested, "the bags appear to contain fabrics so maybe leave those as well?"

"He remembered me," Andy muttered as she walked deeper into the unit.

"Sorry?" Miranda questioned in confusion.

"The guy in the office, he remembered me," Andy observed.

"Yes, he did.." Miranda agreed with a shake of the head as she looked distastefully at the nearest stack of boxes and how to potentially begin the process without actually physically touching any of the dusty contents.

"I wonder why?" Andy queried in confusion.

"Yes, such a mystery!" Miranda muttered cynically.

"You don't think so?" Andy said as she approached the Editor again.

Miranda sighed and turned to face the girl, "Andréa, you're a beautiful woman, of course he remembered you."

Andy blushed a bright shade of red which Miranda thought adorable, "oh, I'm not, I've seen your magazine. I'm not beautiful."

"Models aren't beautiful," Miranda said as she pushed a lid off of a cardboard box with the end of her keys and started to peer inside.

"Isn't that what they exist for? To be beautiful?"

Miranda laughed as she moved a few items inside the box to ascertain its contents, "no, they're hangers! To be as plain as possible so the clothes get all the attention. Of course some of them are pretty, if you appreciate a lack of muscle structure and a façade of a face, but on the whole, no, no models are not beautiful. They serve a purpose. They are glorified hangers, well compensated hangers. But hangers nonetheless. You are a fine example of beauty. This appears to be old issues of Runway, you certainly don't need them at my house."

Andy had been staring at Miranda in complete shock and blinked and tried to find her thoughts when the older woman turned to face her, "thank you, Miranda, that means so much to me. Coming from you, of all people."

Miranda looked truly confused, "well of course I have all the old back issues of Runway," she clarified.

Andy threw her arms around Miranda's neck and encased the woman in an embrace, Miranda took a small step back in stunned silence and slowly, eventually wrapped her arms around the young woman having no idea why she was being hugged.

"Ooo, photo album!" Andy exclaimed as she looked down at the box Miranda had opened and released the Editor and stepped around her to pick up the treasured item.

Miranda turned around feeling completely lost and confused as to what had just happened which seemed to be a frequent occurrence with the brunette in her life.

Andy was leafing through the pictures with a look of sheer exuberance, "I remember these people, I remember these photos," she shrieked happily and threw her arms around Miranda again with the book still tightly clenched in her right hand. This time Miranda was quicker to return the embrace and held the girl close to her with a smile firmly lodged on her face.

Andy let go again and flipped back to the front page of the book, "this is my Mom, and this is my maternal Nanna.. oh my God I can't believe I couldn't remember these people," she whispered as tears tracked down her face, "but I remember them now," she said with a happy smile as she carried on through the photo album.

Miranda observed the girl with silent affection, not wishing to interrupt the surge of recovered memories and emotions.

"My parents died about a year before I moved to New York, I suppose a year before I started at Runway," Andy said as she stared at the photographs, "neither had an siblings and I was an only child too so that was that, no family. That's why no one came looking for me, I suspected that was the case but now I know it was."

"Do you need some time alone?" Miranda whispered as she placed a comforting hand on Andy's shoulder.

Andy sniffed a little, "no, no I'm glad you're here. Let's see what else we can find.."

Half an hour later and the women had managed to arrange a lot of the possessions into piles. Andy was taken aback at the amount of clothes she seemed to own, Miranda was dazed at the fact that most of them had been consigned to black sacks. The furniture had been pushed into one corner and all the sacks and bags of clothes had been pushed into another. Andy's love of reading had been well and truly confirmed by the startling number of books she had, putting most libraries to shame.

The embarrassing music collection that Andy knew she would have had been located and promptly hidden from Miranda's probing eye and now they were left with a few boxes of personal items, photographs, a digital camera, a laptop and an extraordinary number of journals which Andy was dying to read.

"There's more of them in here," Miranda commented with astonishment as she lifted the lid of one of the last boxes, "you must have documented your entire life," she implied.

Andy looked at the box and counted the hand written journals, "that's twenty six, that's one for each year of my life!"

"I doubt you were chronicling your existence as a baby," Miranda pointed out.

"Well," Andy said, "then I've just had a fascinating life!"

"Or you feel the need to write down every little thing that ever happened to you," Miranda said.

"I prefer my theory," Andy laughed, "well, with that one we are down to six boxes to take with me today."

Miranda nodded and said she was going to go and get the "imbecile" in the office to give them a hand with getting the boxes to the car. While she was gone Andy picked up a journal and leafed through the pages. The handwriting was messy and there were doodles all over the page, clearly from when she was younger. She skim read a few paragraphs and understood that she was preparing for the school play, apparently younger Andy was very excited to be a sheep in Nativity.

She put the journal back in the box and opened another, the journals had changed in this box and they were no longer paper backs but now they were leather bound. She randomly selected one and undid the leather strap holding the book together and flipped through some pages. After a while she caught on to the timeline, it was directly before she started at Runway. She wrote about a boyfriend called Nate and aspirations to be a writer, seems she had been turned down for a lot of jobs that she had applied for.

Andy put the journal back and took the one next to it and opened it up in the middle. Her normally handwriting was a mess, reminding her of the journal from her youth. She seemed upset and there were watermarks on the page, probably from tears. She had started Runway and she was miserable, she wrote that her life was falling apart and that her boss was making her life a living nightmare. With a swallow Andy closed the journal and put it back in the box.

She looked at the last journal in the box, it seemed to bulge in the middle and Andy lifted it up and realised there was a pen still inside the book. She opened at that page and gasped in shock, quickly closing the book again. She felt her cheeks flare up with heat and quickly looked around the unit and stepped out into the corridor to see if anyone was around. When she was satisfied that she was alone and no one was about to appear she opened the book again. On the page was a pencil drawing of Miranda. Naked. Andy stared at the image and swallowed hard before closing the book again.

Looking in the hallway again for any sign on Miranda she then peaked at the page again. Clearly she had drawn this picture, was it from fact or fiction? She couldn't tell. But the facts were there, it was clearly an erotic picture, of her boss, that she had drawn. Andy found herself staring at the drawing with a dry mouth until she could hear the sound of Miranda returning to the storage unit. She quickly closed the book and put it back in the box, slamming the lid back and holding it down for good measure.


	22. Chapter 22

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: There has been a bit of controversy regarding the way I update this story. As regular readers will know I update in very short chapters but usually two to three chapters at a time, daily.

There are two reasons for this. Firstly, I strongly feel it suits the story to be spaced out in this fashion, I think capsules of information like this (hopefully) create a more intense feel to what is happening. Separating days and themes, if you like.

Secondly, it suits my schedule to write little and often.

I don't do it to create needless cliffhangers, indeed I think my story is quite sparse on the cliffhanger front as I'm not a fan of this writing style.

Some people seem to be really enjoying the concept and others don't. For those who do enjoy it - thank you for your kind words and encouragement. For those who don't like it I suggest you wait until I mark the story as complete and then you can read through in one sitting or at your own pace. I will retain the chapter spacing as I think it is needed.

That all being said ... I'm going away shortly so the updates will be slightly out of whack depending upon my time and the availability of Wi-Fi.

Again, thank you all for your comments.

* * *

><p>Andy sat on the ludicrously comfortable guest bed with her journals all laid out before her, now sorted into date order. She'd been sat like that for some time while she debated the best way forward. Her mind had been completely scrambled since she'd seen the suggestive picture of Miranda she had drawn. Barely a word could be formed never mind actually spoken on the car journey on the way back, Miranda had asked her several times if she was okay and what had happened but Andy brushed it off. Clearly she wasn't an accomplished liar as Miranda had pursed her lips in displeasure every time she suggested that she was fine.<p>

Once they got back to the townhouse Andy insisted on carrying the boxes into the guestroom herself, almost banning Miranda from coming near them. Andy was terrified what else might be in the boxes upon further inspection and her blood ran cold at the thought of a flimsy box breaking and spilling her secrets at Miranda's feet. Eventually Miranda had skulked off, understanding that the young woman wanted to be alone. That was a few hours ago and Andy hadn't left the safety of the guestroom since.

Andy looked at the books laid out in front of her. They contained everything about her, all her thoughts, wishes, desires, dreams, sadness and plans. She couldn't have hoped for anything more from the storage unit, a complete transcript of her life in her own hand. Andy had always suspected that the obsessive diary keeping she did was not simply a consequence of her accent and her desire to not forget her newly forged memories. Now she had proof, she had always kept a diary, compulsively so.

So far Andy had simply flicked through the first page or two to deduce the order in which the journals had been written. It seemed the first journal was written when she was twelve and the last journal was clearly written just before she left for Paris just over a year ago. Beyond that she hadn't dared to look any further as she debated with herself what order to tackle them.

A big part of her wanted to pick up the most recent journal and examine the nature of the relationship she had with her, now former, boss. But then she didn't want to ignore the rest of her life, her childhood, her parents, her schooling, college and beyond. But then she didn't want to spend the next week solidly reading in order to uncover the truth about her feelings for Miranda.

Her emotions were running high after the sudden flash of recollection of her parents and grandparents. While she couldn't remember everything she had a strong feeling and, as before with Patricia, she had a feeling of remembrance rather than actually remembering. There was still so much missing but she felt safer in the knowledge that her memories were in her brain somewhere trying to come to the surface rather than lost forever which had been her dreaded nightmare.

Andy looked around the guestroom, Miranda was a mystery to her, a delightful one but a mystery none the less. She desperately wanted to know more, she had to know more. She picked up the journal that fell during the year of her starting at Runway and, with a calming breath, she started to read.

The journal began with much talk of a boyfriend called Nate and how the couple had moved to New York so he could be a world class chef and she could be a world class writer. The apartment was clean but small and in a bad neighbourhood but they had unwavering belief in their dreams and just a few pages in Nate had a job in a restaurant. It wasn't what he wanted but he knew it would help him get the experience he needed to reach his ultimate goals.

The next few pages were less fortunate for Andy, it seemed that she applied for every job in anything that involved words being printed on or offline but with no success. Money was getting tighter and the rent was high so Andy had to lower her aim to anything that would pay the bills. Her and Nate had blazing rows, Andy stating that they both came to New York with the intention of following their dreams but now Nate was on the road to his Andy was expected to give up on her hopes and get any job she could.

Andy flipped on a few pages, she couldn't stand to read the despair from her former self. She continued to flip past tear stained pages telling of arguments until she saw the word 'Runway' on a page. She paused and read that she had been offered an interview with someone called Miranda Priestly, it was clear she didn't really want the job or the interview but it was the last resort if she wanted any kind of career in her chosen field.

Further on she read of the horrendous interview with Miranda herself and then her surprise when some British red haired woman called Emily came to fetch her back and tell her she had the job. The next entry was more than a week after that date and spoke of the horrors of her job, how awful Miranda was and how much she hated her job. She continued to reference the fact that everyone told her if she completed one year in the position she would have her pick of opportunities. 'What is a year anyway?' her former self had written and Andy gave a derisive chuckle.

The next few diary entries were few and far between but slowly picked up and eventually she was writing every day again, usually when she was waiting for the Book to be ready. Andy frowned as she read the entries, each one was more difficult to read than the one before. Miranda was a monster to her second assistant, pure and simple. Every time Andy thought she had managed to do something right Miranda slapped her down and gave her a more difficult task. She'd changed everything about herself to fit in more, her clothes, her attitude, her hair and her make up were all changed in an attempt to appease Miranda and the other staff at Runway but still she was treated like something on the bottom of the Editor's show.

Andy's only respite was in the guise of her new friend, Nigel, the art director for Runway. He had been a lifeline and the only sane person in the building. But even with his handholding it was all too much. Endlessly long hours, being sent on ridiculous errands, picked on for being the only one in the office to eat.. Andy's life appeared to be hell. That was certainly what the author of the journal thought anyway.

Then, late one night, Andy was waiting for the book in the office on the first anniversary of her parent's death wondering what had become of her life. When Miranda returned to the office from a dinner with one of the advertisers, she looked at Andy and in an impossibly quiet voice said 'I know it's none of my business, but I am truly sorry for your loss.' Andy had been too stunned to reply when the older woman strode into her office and sent Andy home for the night.

It was the first time Miranda had been a human being to her, the first time she had said anything even vaguely kind or personable. While Andy couldn't be sure it, looked like Miranda had come back to the office to allow Andy some time off on a difficult day. Her former self clearly had no idea what to think and bandied about suggestions such as a stroke, food poisoning, a planned late night meeting with a man or even having been abducted by aliens.

The next entries changed in their tone, sure Miranda was being as awful as ever and the tasks were becoming more and more impossible but now Andy seemed to be analysing the Editor. Attempting to understand her and get into the psychological mind set of the woman. Andy had taken a step back and put herself in Miranda's shoes all at once, no longer was she being asked to perform the impossible for the twins on a whim. No, she was doing it because she identified that Miranda was unable to be there with her girls and was doing whatever she could to make them happy. Some of the gifts were apologies, some of them were simple to say she was thinking of them even when she couldn't be there.

The unworkable schedule changes were not just to be awkward, though Miranda would certainly want everyone involved to think that, no, with a little digging it could be discovered that Miranda's mother was sick and the schedule change allowed her to fly to see her in the evening and return in the morning without anyone knowing.

By the end of the first journal chronicling Andy's duration at Runway it was obvious that Andy's opinion of the older woman had completely changed and with it so had Andy. She was happier at Runway now she had a better understanding of Miranda, sure the woman was as cold and rude as ever, sometimes Andy longed for the days when she was called the smart, fat girl because at least there was a compliment in there. But understanding more about the reasons behind her madness, even if it was just to assert her power over people had made Andy start to respect Miranda.

Andy quickly picked up the next journal, she knew how this one ended but she was fascinated to see how she got there. A few entries in Andy couldn't help but smirk when it seemed that Nate's kitchen career wasn't all it was cracked up to be, he wasn't progressing and he was miserable. He spoke about going back to school and specialising in a food skill, he was expecting Andy to support them both while he quit work to follow his dreams. Moreover he was counting down the days until Andy had been at Runway for a year, confident that when that day came she would leave for bigger, better things. Mainly better paid things to support him during his schooling.

More fights ensued when she told him she didn't want to leave, she was enjoying her work at the moment. He reminded her of her dream to be a writer and was frustrated by the fact she was willing to throw her dream away while he had to work so hard to his. Andy fought back by reminding him how he fell into his current job within a week of being in the city and how she fought hard for hers. More fights, more tears, more anguish. Nigel told her that her personal life should be falling apart and now it was. But there was a constant, a stabilising force, no matter how bad things got at home she knew that every morning Miranda would be there. Just being Miranda.

The more her relationship with Nate disintegrated the more obsessed with Miranda she became. She watched from the side-lines as she saw Miranda's own relationship crumbling and before long she was hoping that divorce was on the cards, not because she wanted pain for Miranda or the girls. More that she couldn't stand to see Miranda so miserable and so unappreciated, Andy could see she deserved more, why couldn't Steven?

Then came the realisation, Andy had seen it coming but it seemed to hit her former self like a brick wall. Andy was in love. Or at the very least in lust. In something at least with her terrifying boss. The diary entry that made this proclamation rambled on for four long pages as she wrestled with the idea, wondered if she was suffering from Stockholm syndrome, or simply in awe of the position of power the Editor held. But no, by the end of the journal she had decided it was love, she loved the Editor. She felt she knew and understood the woman behind the mask.

Andy stopped reading and closed her eyes to take it all in, condensing so much of her life into such a short amount of time was a lot to take on board in one sitting. The Miranda in the book and the Miranda she knew were completely different people, her former self would have been euphoric to see her boss like this.

"Andréa?" Miranda whispered, her voice laced with concern.

Andy's eyes snapped open and she slammed the journal shut, "M-Miranda, hi, sorry, I didn't hear you.."

"Well I practically shouted myself hoarse," Miranda uttered.

Andy smiled, she knew that Miranda had probably called her once, maybe twice but in that impossibly soft voice of hers it would be impossible to have heard her.

"Sorry," she gave a half smile, "what can I do for you?"

"I have spoken with Nigel, he would like to come for brunch tomorrow if that is suitable with you?" Miranda asked.

"Absolutely!" Andy exclaimed, "it will be great to meet him."

Miranda nodded and glanced hesitantly at the diaries but didn't comment on them, she turned to leave before turning back to face Andy as she recalled, "oh yes, the girls will be returning on Monday. I've advised them of the situation and they understand, as much as ten year olds can understand, they are looking forward to having company in the house."

Andy smiled, "and I look forward to meeting them."

Miranda nodded and as she couldn't think of any reason to stay she turned to leave and made her way back up the stairs to the ground floor of the townhouse. Of course she didn't need to go downstairs to tell Andréa either piece of news, indeed she hadn't even heard from Nigel but intended to invite him to brunch the next day regardless of his availability. She'd just wanted to see the young woman and check she was okay, since earlier at the storage unit the atmosphere had changed.

Andréa couldn't get away from her quickly enough and had sheltered in the guestroom ever since. Miranda suspected that the journals were to blame, she'd often seen the young woman writing in books and such but when she saw the journals and realised what they were she put the pieces together. Andréa had been documenting her life at Runway and now she was evidently learning the truth.

Miranda flopped into her office chair in the study and sighed, she had tried hard to be different with Andréa this time, to be more open, friendly, caring even. The overwhelming shame she had felt once she had learnt of Andréa's condition and situation had spurred her to attempt to be different this time. It had seemed to be working but the past always comes back to bite you and Miranda could feel the younger woman slipping away.


	23. Chapter 23

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: There has been a bit of controversy regarding the way I update this story. As regular readers will know I update in very short chapters but usually two to three chapters at a time, daily.

There are two reasons for this. Firstly, I strongly feel it suits the story to be spaced out in this fashion, I think capsules of information like this (hopefully) create a more intense feel to what is happening. Separating days and themes, if you like.

Secondly, it suits my schedule to write little and often.

I don't do it to create needless cliffhangers, indeed I think my story is quite sparse on the cliffhanger front as I'm not a fan of this writing style.

Some people seem to be really enjoying the concept and others don't. For those who do enjoy it - thank you for your kind words and encouragement. For those who don't like it I suggest you wait until I mark the story as complete and then you can read through in one sitting or at your own pace. I will retain the chapter spacing as I think it is needed.

That all being said ... I'm going away shortly so the updates will be slightly out of whack depending upon my time and the availability of Wi-Fi.

Again, thank you all for your comments.

* * *

><p>The next morning Andy made an effort to have breakfast with Miranda. The previous night she had stayed in the guestroom and absorbed as much as she could from the journals. Miranda had ventured downstairs twice more following her initial visit, once to ask her if she wanted to join her for dinner, which Andy had declined, and once before she went to bed when she brought Andy a sandwich on a china plate and instructed her to eat.<p>

Andy gratefully ate the sandwich and eventually fell asleep fully dressed while reading about her grandmother attempting to teach a bored, teenaged Andy how to sew. When she woke up she had jumped off of the bed in surprise and had had a quick shower to make herself presentable for Miranda and Nigel who would no doubt be arriving soon.

As she arrived in the kitchen she saw Miranda sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar sipping coffee from an extravagantly decorated cup and saucer while reading a newspaper. She noticed the young woman and glanced up from her newspaper with a raised eyebrow, "ah, she returns," she said without much feeling.

Andy smiled, she knew she deserved that for being so off with Miranda all the previous day, "yes, I'm back, still getting caught up but those journals are amazing."

Miranda made a hum of agreement as she continued reading her newspaper and Andy set about making herself some tea. As she busied herself around the kitchen she used the opportunity to scrutinise the older woman. There was no mistaking that Miranda was a beautiful woman and Andy could see why her previous self had been besotted.

Suddenly Andy realised Miranda was looking straight at her and she quickly turned back to continue what she was doing. Miranda didn't say anything as a, now red faced, Andy carried on making tea while attempting as little eye contact as possible.

* * *

><p>By the time the doorbell rang to signal Nigel's arrival both women heaved a sigh of relief in their respective rooms. Neither could understand the atmosphere that had descended over them but both certainly felt the weight of it and welcomed a third person to shake the cobwebs out.<p>

Miranda opened the door and Nigel stepped in and the two said hello and air-kissed in greeting, he was holding two red roses and handed one to Miranda and when he noticed Andy standing shyly by the stairs he smiled warmly and approached her.

"Well, let me look at you!" he said excitedly.

Andy smiled and approached him tentatively, this was the first time she was meeting someone who she was supposed to know but had no recollection of.

Nigel looked at Miranda, "she's as gorgeous as ever, isn't she?"

Miranda smiled politely but remained silent, waiting to see if Andy was going to remember Nigel.

Nigel turned back to Andy and with a smile said, "you have no idea who I am do you?"

Andy shook her head and apologetically replied, "no, I'm sorry, there's nothing.."

"Well in that case we need to talk about that hundred dollars you owe me," he said with a wink and handed her the rose.

Andy took the rose and laughed, "oh, so that's why you were so keen to see me!"

The two shared a laugh and Nigel said, "well, the first thing you need to know about me is that I'm a hugger," he held his arms open and Andy beamed and gave him a hug. Once she stepped back he looked her up and down with appreciation, "you're looking divine and I'm loving the hair!"

"Thanks," Andy said brightly, "I've seen a lot of photographs of me with long hair so I'm really not sure now."

"It's the new you," Nigel smiled, "one of the last things you said to me was that you were looking for the new you. I think you've found her."

"Yes!" Andy said with excitement, "I was reading my journal and I mentioned that conversation, we were at.. the club that we used to go to, what was it called?"

"Lucky's," Nigel said with a smile, "a journal? This is intriguing!"

"Lucky's, that was it!" Andy said, "yes I seem to have written everything that ever happened to me down."

"Bet you didn't write down about the hundred dollars," he laughed and Andy cocked her head to one side as if trying to recall.

"No, not ringing any bells.." she smiled.

"If you'll excuse me," Miranda said as she glided past them, "I will prepare brunch, please use the sitting room upstairs to get reacquainted, it's not Lucky's but it will do I'm sure."

As the older woman vanished into the kitchen Nigel raised an eyebrow, "oh dear.."

"Yeah, that's my fault," Andy said with a sigh, "it's been weird lately.." she trailed off.

"Oh, honey, it's always been weird," Nigel said as he placed her hand on his arm and led her to the sitting room.

* * *

><p>Brunch was an awkward affair. While Nigel and Andy laughed, joked and reminisced Miranda sat there like the third wheel. Andy kept trying to include the older woman but each time Miranda shot her down with a scathing remark, shortly followed by an apology and an instance that she was tired. After a while Miranda excused herself from the dining room to finish up some urgent work in the study.<p>

Andy the opportunity to address Nigel, "Nigel.."

"Yes?" Nigel smiled, knowing that something juicy was on the way.

"I get the feeling we were close, I know we were friends from my journals but were we very close?"

Nigel smiled, "well I wasn't your boyfriend if that's what you're referring to?"

Andy playfully smacked his arm with her napkin, "no! Nigel! I'm serious.."

"We were quite close, yes," Nigel admitted, "when you spend all your time at work then you have to have at least one work colleague to confide in.."

"Did I confide anything in you, Nigel?" Andy lowered her voice to a whisper in fear that Miranda would overhear.

"Like what?" Nigel played dumb.

"Like anything I might need to know about," Andy whispered through clenched teeth.

Nigel just smiled sweetly at Andy as he picked up another scone and started to cut it in half and butter it. She realised he wasn't going to say anything and that the ball was in her court so she whispered again, "did I ever mention my feelings for Miranda?"

If Nigel was surprised he certainly didn't show it as he shook his head, "not directly, no. But I had my suspicions."

Andy nodded and stared into her teacup silently.

"Is that what's going on here?" he said indicating Andy and Miranda's chair with his butter encrusted knife.

"No, no," Andy waved the suggestion away with her hand, "nothing like that. I'm not sure what's going on to be honest, she has these moods.. I'm probably not helping them though."

"Hmm," Nigel said, "so, what do you propose to do about it?"

"About what?" Andy asked.

Nigel rolled his eyes, "about you and your feelings for Miranda."

"Shh!" Andy cried out as she looked towards the doorway in case Miranda was there.

Nigel simply laughed, "come on, where's that brave Andy I know and love? Hmm? The one starting a whole brave new life? I don't want to belittle what happened to you, please don't think that, but this could be a gift. A rewrite, a clean slate! What happened to the girl who doesn't want to waste a second more?"

Andy looked at the assorted brunch china with confusion, "I don't know, I just don't want to ruin the relationship we've built up. I've read my journals so I know what it was like and I don't think I could bear that."

"But it's not like that now, is it?" Nigel stated, "what does that tell you?"

Andy frowned, "that Miranda has lost her mind?"

"Maybe," Nigel admitted, "always a possibility, but let's suppose she hasn't. Let's suppose that she is actually being nice to you. Building a rapport, developing a friendship, a relationship. Why would she do that?"

Andy opened and closed her mouth before shaking her head, "no.. I know what you're thinking.."

"One day I was due to have a meeting with Irv, Miranda was off in California at a shoot. I wasn't looking forward to it, I had to explain a drastic overspend and I was nervous. Do you want to know what you said to me?"

Andy nodded.

"You said, don't worry, they can't take away your birthday," Nigel smiled, "I always remembered it. You said to me no matter how bad it is, no matter what they do to you, they can't take away your birthday. It made me stronger to wonder what is the worst they can actually do, what's the worst that can actually happen? Don't write off a chance at happiness, Andy."

Andy reached his hand across the table and took the young brunettes hand and gave it a quick squeeze. All the while Andy stared at her teacup wondering how she had managed to get herself into such a mess.


	24. Chapter 24

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: As I mentioned, I'm travelling at the moment so updates will happen when I get a chance to get some WiFi!

* * *

><p>It was an hour after Nigel had left the townhouse when Andy plucked up the courage to knock on the closed door of Miranda's study.<p>

A terse, "come," was all that greeted her and Andy took a deep breath before opening the door and walking in.

Miranda didn't even look up from her computer when Andy entered the room so the brunette sat on the sofa and waited for the older woman to deign to make eye contact with her. She didn't have to wait long until Miranda's steely blue eyes finally flickered up to look at the girl.

Without a word Miranda raised a questioning eyebrow and Andy gave a nervous smile, "I need to talk to you."

Miranda sighed, she presumed that this was the point where Andréa told her the contents of the journal and was beginning to realise the awful truth of who Miranda really was. They'd probably have another faceoff like they had done in Paris followed by Andréa leaving for some awful hostel.

"I've, I've been doing a lot of reading. A lot of catching up," Andy started hesitantly.

Miranda gave the smallest of nods as she mentally braced herself.

"There's a lot about us," Andy admitted, "and I have been agonising over whether or not I should tell you what I have read."

"I'm certain I can imagine the contents," Miranda sniffed derisively.

"I don't know if you can," Andy admitted, "it came as a shock to me, well shock is a bit strong.."

Miranda shook her head and sighed again, "do get on with it, Andréa"

"You're not making this easy," Andy pointed out.

"I'm not sure I want to hear it," Miranda gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Well you are going to because it is eating me up, I can't think straight while I keep this in," Andy protested before giggling as she muttered, "ha.. straight.."

Miranda frowned, "what?"

Andy shook her head, "never mind," she took a deep breath, "the journals, they kind of tell a story of you and I. From the start where you didn't like me, or my clothes, or my hair.. or my make up.. and told me so. Frequently."

"Yes, yes," Miranda hurried her along, not wishing to prolong the agony.

"But then, it changed, well. I changed.." Andy corrected as she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa and started to look down at her hands which were folded in her lap.

A pause lingered for only a few seconds in the room but it was enough to drive Miranda over the edge, "look, Andréa, I know I am impossible to be with. I know I made your life a living nightmare, I really do know. I don't need you to come and tell me to my face that I was, that I am, a bitch."

Andy's eyes snapped up with surprise, "no, that's not why I'm here at all!"

Miranda gave a cynical look, "no?"

"No," Andy said in her defence, "I wouldn't do that, I wanted to tell you that I care for you."

Now Miranda looked confused, "care for me?"

Andy pressed her palms into her face and leaned forward with a slow and anguished cry, "oh, God this is so difficult!"

Miranda unconsciously closed the lid on her laptop to prevent any and all distractions and stood up, she didn't walk anywhere because she didn't know whether to approach the girl or to run away.

Andy, still with her head in her hands and leaning forward, started to speak quickly, "I, I, developed feelings for you, before. Well, I have now as well, but I.. I don't know. It wasn't a silly crush, or anything like that, it was real, it was important to me. And now I recognise those feelings again. I love you, I'm in love with you, Miranda."

"Don't be silly," Miranda replied before even thinking about what she was saying, the whole thing just sounded absolutely preposterous and Miranda wanted to immediately get back to the time when they were barely speaking to each other to rid them of this wretched uncertainty.

"I'm not being silly," Andy shouted as she shot up and stalked over to Miranda's desk, "how dare you, I come in here and put my feelings on the table and you say that!"

Miranda was glad that the desk separated them because she felt for sure that the girl would stab an accusing finger in her chest if it were not for the distance, "I-I, I'm sorry, Andréa, I apologise, that was not at all thought through. But I do think you are confused, you can't have feelings for me, I think it's more a.. a gratitude. Maybe it's because.."

Miranda was cut off by Andy climbing up and kneeling on the desk and grabbing Miranda by the collar of her Chanel suit jacket and pulling her across the table and pushing her open mouth onto the, still speaking, lips of the Editor. The result was two slightly open mouths connecting and it was electrifying.

Miranda was shocked into stillness and silence and simply stood like a limp ragdoll leant over the desk as Andy held her firmly in place. Andy started to move her lips softly but Miranda made no move to reciprocate and Andy eventually let her go and stared at her with wild eyes, she felt for sure that she would see anger in Miranda's face if the lack of response was anything to go by. But when she finally braved meeting her eyes she didn't see anger, she didn't see disgust, she saw surprise. Surprise and desire.

"Still think I'm just grateful?" Andy asked with a pointed look.


	25. Chapter 25

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: As I mentioned, I'm travelling at the moment so updates will happen when I get a chance to get some WiFi!

* * *

><p>"Still think I'm just grateful?" Andy asked with a pointed look.<p>

Miranda just stood there in shock, her lipstick was smudged, her suit jacket collar was crumpled from where Andy had held her in place and her iconic white hair fell forward from its usual swept back style.

Eventually Miranda broke the silence by attempting to make a sentence, "well, well, I suppose, well, no, but.. but you can't, you can't possibly, it would just be ridiculous.. that is to say that this is all.. as you well know.."

"Miranda," Andy said and smiled when Miranda stopped talking and looked Andy deep in the eye in the hope that the young woman would say something to help her out of the hole she seemed to have dug for herself.

"Stop talking," Andy finished with a sweet smile.

Miranda nodded her agreement at the idea.

Andy sighed and walked around Miranda's desk that it was no longer between them, at first Miranda almost backed up in case she was attacked again but Andy held her hands up with a smile as she perched on the edge of the desk and gestured for Miranda to sit in her office chair again.

Once Miranda sat down Andy nodded, "thank you, now, let's discuss this as the sensible adults we both are, okay?"

Miranda nodded again and Andy briefly wondered if the woman would ever be the same again.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, kissed you like that, I mean. I just wanted to stop you from talking and to demonstrate how I feel about you. I didn't want you to belittle my feelings, my very real feelings," Andy added with emphasis as she placed a hand over her heart.

"I understand this is a bit of a shock to you, but I needed you to know how I feel. It's not a crush, it's not gratitude, even though I am eternally grateful for all you have ever done for me. I don't expect you to share these feelings but it would be wrong of me to not tell you, especially when I'm living under your roof."

Something spurred Miranda to start talking again, "but what happens when you remember me? The real me? The one who made your life miserable, then you won't love me. I can assure you of that!"

"That's not true," Andy retorted, "I loved you despite all that anyway. And I've read what you were like, I know it will be different reading it to remembering it if and when those memories ever return but I don't see how I would feel differently.." and suddenly Andy realised what Miranda had said, "hold on! Hold on, you're worried about that, you're not saying you don't have feelings.. God, Miranda, do you have feelings for me?"

Miranda jumped to her feet and quickly passed the girl on the edge of her desk and started pacing the study, "well, yes, yes, of course I do. I must do, I suppose that's what all of this is!"

Andy turned to watch the older woman pacing the carpeted room, relieved to hear the words but also aware of the however that was clearly on its way.

"However," Miranda started and Andy smothered a smile, "I'm a thousand years older than you, or I might as well be anyway, I'm impossible to live with, I'm a terrible partner, my girls come first and my work comes second. A relationship with me would be a terrible thing for you, Andréa.."

Andy could tell that Miranda was talking both of them out of any chance of a relationship, any chance of happiness and she felt a flash of anger, "oh, no you don't! Don't you dare!"

Miranda turned in surprise as the girl hopped off of the desk and rounded on her again, "don't you dare do that," Andy continued, "you care for me, I care for you. Don't talk everyone out of anything before we've even had a fighting chance at this!"

"I.. I'm not," Miranda hesitated as she wondered if that was exactly what she was doing.

"Good, so you have no problem with us trying this out, seeing how it goes?" Andy pressed, not willing to leave the room or the subject until she had some form of pact with the Editor.

Miranda looked at her solemnly, "I do have to think about the girls.."

Andy conceded, "yes, I understand, of course. They are back tomorrow.."

Miranda nodded, "I would like to let them settle in and meet you, they know of you but I don't think they really know you.."

Andy nodded in agreement, she had concluded the same thing from her journals, her interaction with the girls had been extremely limited, "absolutely.. but, the girls permitting, do you promise me that we can explore this?"

If it hadn't been so serious to Andy she would have found it adorable, Miranda truly looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The older woman slowly nodded her agreement as she licked her lips in nervous desire.


	26. Chapter 26

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: As I mentioned, I'm travelling at the moment so updates will happen when I get a chance to get some WiFi! Sadly, only one chapter tonight!

* * *

><p>That night Miranda lay wide awake in bed staring at the ceiling in her darkened bedroom. Following her surreal discussion with Andréa that afternoon she had been working with only a short break for a quick salad. She had worked for so long for two reasons, the first was because she was desperately trying to avoid the girl and the second because everything took so much longer in her distracted state.<p>

She didn't like the uncertainty, the not knowing what would happen next and, most of all, the uncontrollability of everything. Miranda enjoyed having an ordered life, she hired a team of people to ensure her days followed a certain pattern and her every need or whim was catered to. Now she felt like that security had been taken away and while in some ways it was alarming in others it was exciting, which was indeed more alarming.

The girl had kissed her. The impetuous girl had grabbed her by the perfectly stitched collar of her Chanel suit jacket and roughly hauled her across her own desk. Miranda huffed out loud in the empty room. But then came the kiss. Miranda wasn't particularly experienced when it came to being swept up in emotion, especially desire. Her previous relationships had all been matches of convenience rather than love, which suited her perfectly because she never had the time for love.

But now the girl had come back from the dead and kissed her. And Miranda had seen that flicker in her eyes, that flicker of victory. However for reasons completely unknown to Miranda she hadn't been able to form a sentence or even construct one in her own mind. Oh how Andréa must have loved that. Miranda briefly cursed her body for letting her down, her foolish lips for not responding to a kiss, her stupid brain for not being able to form a coherent stream of words. No, she'd stood there like a mannequin except a mannequin that stammered out ridiculous words in no sensible order.

Miranda grabbed the pillow beside her and threw it over her face to block out the memory of her embarrassing display. A few seconds later she discarded the pillow again when she realised that it was not helping and that the undesirable thoughts filtered straight through the cotton and duck feather.

She felt at a loss, beaten and having given up power. Things Miranda very much didn't like. All because the girl had taken the first move, been brave enough to confront her. But then why couldn't Miranda take that power back? Maybe put the girl on the back foot by surprising her. A small but undeniably wicked grin fixed itself on Miranda's face as she lay in the bed contemplating her next move.

Clearly Andréa had feelings for her, while she had taken the upper hand with the kiss that didn't mean that Miranda couldn't snatch it back using the same tactics and introducing the element of surprise. Miranda pulled back the sheet and stood up and quickly made her way to the connected bathroom, the lights automatically turned on as she entered the room and she stood in front of the wash basin and looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye.

She had removed her make-up, brushed the product from her hair and wore white silk pyjamas, she sucked in her check as she considered what to do next and before long she was reached for her hairbrush and a blow dryer. Ten minutes later she was satisfied with the silky smooth finish she had created in her normal style and began to soften the harness of the look, she crushed the lower part of her hair with her hands to create a casual wave and then delicately picked pieces of hair from her fringe to manufacture a designed messy look.

Hair complete she set about applying make-up, with a pause to consider her options she opted for a very soft look, light eye make-up, a small amount of foundation and blush but darker than usual on the lips. With a final look in the mirror she nodded to herself, pleased with the look she was creating for her Andréa.

Exiting the bathroom and crossing the bedroom to the vast walk in wardrobe on the other side of the room she went to a, sadly underused, cupboard that contained lingerie. She sorted through the various options of style, design, colour and fit and eventually opted for a pure white strapless bustier, its lacy shape came down to her stomach and stopped in a small V shape that pointed down to the matching lacy panties.

She stared at her reflection as she analysed each part of the look, she pulled out a garter belt and held it to her leg before shaking her head and putting it back. Then she tried on a high heeled shoe and considered the addition before kicking it off again. She decided on pure white stockings that came midway up her thigh. Reaching for a thin, silk dressing gown she took one last look in the mirror and smiled a wicked grin.


	27. Chapter 27

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **Please note the rating change** - This chapter is very much an M ... naughty scenes lay ahead. Skip if you are offended.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>Miranda quickly descended the stairs from the second floor down to the first and then into the entrance hallway. As she crossed the hallway she felt deliciously mischievous, here she was in white silk lingerie quietly tip toeing across the marble floor knowing full well that the front door was so close and beyond it the public street. Miranda had never been one for taking bedroom activities out of the bedroom, of course she knew all about provocative clothing as it was a key part of her career at Runway but to engage in it herself? Never.<p>

She descended down another flight of stairs towards the lower ground floor and the guestroom where Andréa lay sleeping with no idea what was about to hit her. Miranda grinned again, she wouldn't be the one left standing there looking like an idiot now, no, it would be Andréa. She had it all planned, stun the poor girl into some form of stupor and then, with some kind of a superior laugh, saunter back to her room safe in the knowledge that the tables had been turned and order had been restored.

In the darkened downstairs hallway she crept along the corridor until she came to the partially open bedroom door. With a frown she realised a lamp was still on in the room and she carefully peaked through the gap to see if Andréa was still awake. Clearly Andréa had fallen asleep while reading as she was slumped in a sitting position in bed with a sheet over her legs and an open journal laying on her thighs.

Miranda opened the door fully and walked into the room and tidied a couple of journals from the bed and placed them on the bedside table, when she went to reach for the open book she saw a hand drawing of herself and she hesitated before picking up the book and looking more closely at the sketch. She smiled in appreciation, Andréa clearly had hidden talents and a vivid imagination if she thought Miranda's breasts looked anything like those.

"M-Miranda?" the girl stuttered as her eyes opened in surprise to see the older woman standing over her. Then she seemed to notice what Miranda was wearing and her eyes practically bulged out of her head.

Miranda ignored all of this and continued to examine the drawing, "very good, Andréa," she purred in appreciation at the work before closing the journal with a loud crack and putting it with the others on the bedside table. She stared down at Andy who was still staring at the Editor in shock and smiled a wicked smile, "didn't your mother ever tell you that it is rude to stare?"

"No idea what she taught me," Andy said honestly as she carried on her visual examination of Miranda's body, "you are gorgeous.."

Miranda didn't respond but instead she climbed up on the bed and straddled the younger woman causing Andy to gulp audibly.

She leaned closer, "isn't this what you wanted, Andréa?"

Andy nodded slowly as she stared directly in front of her at Miranda's perfect white mounds ensnared within the silky white material of the bustier.

"Forgotten how to speak?" Miranda smiled with satisfaction, "what a terrible shame, I'll have to come back when you're more.. prepared."

Miranda had achieved her goal, she had won. She had every intention of dismounting from her position over the girl and sauntering, with the exact amount of hip sway, out of the room. Clearly someone else had other plans.

Andy reached up with her right hand and shoved her hand into Miranda's thick white hair and reached around to the back of her head and pulled the Editor's face down to meet hers. Andy's lips attacked Miranda's in quick succession of hot, wet and deep kisses. Miranda responded as best she could but she was surprised and overwhelmed by the onslaught.

Andy's other hand grabbed at Miranda's side through the maddeningly soft silk material and with a quick motion she flipped the two of them so Miranda was on her back and Andy was straddling her. In a quick movement Andy removed the sheet from between them and Miranda looked appreciatively at the black panties and tight, black tank top that the girl was wearing.

As quickly as Andy had flipped them over she was back pressing her full body into Miranda's and Miranda took a quick breath in surprise at the burning feeling that travelled through her body.

"You better mean this, Miranda," Andy whispered in between more wet kisses, "because I don't think I can stop now.."

Miranda nodded her agreement and brought her arms around Andy's back and pulled her somehow closer, "I-I'm serious.. I have no idea what to do but I'm serious," Miranda admitted in between kisses.

Andy pulled away and looked down at Miranda with desire in her eyes and a smile on her lips, "you have no idea? What about me?"

Suddenly it hit Miranda that Andy had no recollection of sex, the colour drained from her face as she struggled to piece together what this actually meant.

"Does this make me a virgin?" Andy said with a giggle.

"Don't say that," Miranda admonished, she had enough concerns about the age gap without introducing the possibility that in some small way Andy could be considered a virgin.

"Don't worry," Andy smiled a wicked grin as she leaned close to Miranda's ear and seductively whispered, "I've been reading up on it.."

Miranda swallowed hard and whispered, "you-you have?"

Andy started kissing below Miranda's ear and down her neck, "of course.."

Miranda realised her breathing had become very heavy and tried to sound unaffected when she casually enquired, "what have you been reading?"

Andy started to remove a strap of the bustier from a perfectly shaped shoulder as she kissed her way along Miranda's collarbone, "I found this stuff online, called fan fiction, it's where people write about television characters. There's a huge amount of gay fiction," she lifted her head and smiled at Miranda as she finished, "it's really filthy stuff."

With a wink Andy quickly placed a hand over Miranda's silk covered crotch and squeezed gently which caused Miranda to gasp and moan. Andy continued to massage the mound gently as she returned to kissing Miranda's collarbone.

Miranda wanted, no, needed, to see Andy's body and started to frantically pull up on the bottom of the black tank top until Andy sat up and allowed her to remove it. Beautiful breasts bounced free from the confines of the cheap cotton and Miranda sat up and placed her open mouth onto Andy's breast causing the younger woman to gasp as she arched her back and pushed her chest further into Miranda's mouth.

Andy let go of Miranda's mound and started pulling at the panties, "off," she whispered and Miranda nodded her agreement and released Andy's breast and quickly used both hands to remove the thin scrap of material. While she was at it she pulled on Andy's panties and Andy reached around to struggle with Miranda's complicated bustier.

After a few fraught seconds they were both kneeling naked on the bed staring at each other in satisfaction. This time it was Miranda who attached first as she gently pushed Andy backwards and onto her back, she spread Andy's legs with her thigh and pushed it right up until it met with Andy's hot and wet centre.

Andy moaned in delight but this was soon smothered out by Miranda's mouth capturing hers and forcing her tongue into the brunette mouth. Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda and returned the passionate kiss whilst Miranda rubbed her thigh between Andy's legs.

Through the kiss Andy started moaning at the waves of pleasure that were coming from her clit that was being abused by Miranda's strong thigh, refusing to allow it to be over so quickly she again rolled the two bodies over so she was once more on top of her prey. During the roll she managed to get her own thigh to sit in between Miranda's and with a satisfied smirk she pressed upwards and was rewarded with a groan from the older woman as she rolled her eyes back in pleasure.

Andy grabbed at Miranda's breasts and began kneading them which sent Miranda's back arching up in pleasure. Miranda closed her eyes and feverishly rubbed her clit against Andy's thigh and Andy recognised that the older woman was close to coming.

Miranda groaned in frustration as Andy lifted herself away, at the loss of contact she opened her eyes to see what was happening and saw that Andy had manoeuvred herself lower down the bed and was now laying in between Miranda's thighs. Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda's sexy ass and held her tightly by each side before plunging her mouth down onto Miranda's clit.

This was new to the older woman, of course she knew about oral sex but it was just for men or some fantasy that the sex expert of Runway wrote about. But now she was panting and moaning like never before as she clawed at the bed sheets while the young brunette kissed, sucked and licked her way around Miranda's entrance and clit.

A feeling was building up inside Miranda, something she'd not experienced before. If she were to be brutally honest she was never quite sure whether or not she had ever achieved an actual orgasm. Something had certainly happened but she'd always wondered if there was something more, but now, after only a few minutes with Andréa she knew there was something more.

"Andréa.. Oh, oh! Andréa, please, yes," she cried out as she gripped harder and harder on the bedding and arched her back higher and higher.

Suddenly Andréa perfect mouth was no longer on her and Miranda groaned in frustration again. Before she had the chance to complain she felt two fingers quickly enter her and she was panting with desire all over again.

"Andréa!" She cried in between her quick, shallow breaths, "yes, yes, yes!"

Through the haze she realised that Andréa was pushing her legs further apart and then she felt the brunette's tongue return to her clit. With her eyes tightly squeezed shut and her back arched so far she faintly wondered if she'd ever stand straight again she panted for breath as Andréa pumped two fingers in and out of her with a slight crook of the finger. The addition of the tongue swooshing around her clit at a similarly fast pace was more than she could take.

Something happened, she shuddered, she screamed, she cursed and she felt her body contracting in delightful ways it never had before. But Andréa carried on and the sensations came over her in waves, again and again until she finally flopped back onto the bed and gasped for breath.

Andy sat up with a satisfied smirk, she had been concerned that she wouldn't be able to please Miranda but that was clearly not going to be the case. She watched the older woman panting for breath as she lay dishevelled and disorientated beneath her.

"Wow," Andy said as she plucked a tissue out of the box and wiped her chin and mouth, "you taste amazing."

Miranda lolled her head towards the girl and stared at her in wonderment, with no memory of any previous sexual encounters the girl had completely reduced her to a wreck in no time at all and given her an earth shattering orgasm. She reached up and grabbed Andy's arm and pulled her down onto the bed with a smile.

Andy happily screamed as she was sent tumbling and watched as Miranda quickly straddled her and fixed her strong legs on either side of her thighs. With a squeeze of her legs Miranda pressed Andy's own thighs together which resulted in an extremely satisfying pleasure on her clit which made her gasp. She made to grab at Miranda but the older woman quickly seized her hands and leaned forward to hold Andy's hands hostage above her head.

Now she was completely Miranda's prisoner as the older woman held her hands down tightly and rhythmically squeezed her hips which sent little shockwaves through Andy's clit.

"Oh, God, oh, Miranda," Andy cried out in pleasure, "please, more, please," she begged.

Miranda leaned down and captured her mouth in a wet kiss and delighted in the sensation of Andy's cries of pleasure being muted by her kiss. After a few moments of the sweet torture Miranda let the girl go and quickly moved her knee to separate Andy's thighs and placed her hand between Andy's legs.

"Mmm," Miranda whispered at what she found, "so very wet.."

Miranda swirled her fingers around Andy's clit and the young girl bucked off of the bed with pleasure. Miranda dipped her fingers lower and felt a surge of wetness between Andy's folds.

"Tell me what you want," Miranda commanded, "where do you want me to pleasure you?"

Andy moaned in pleasure, "I don't.. I don't.. k-know," she stuttered.

Miranda paused what she was doing but didn't remove her hand, "tell me what you want me to do, Andréa."

"T-touch my clit," Andréa begged quietly, "please, Miranda, please.."

Miranda quickly began gently swirling a finger around Andy's clit and watched as the brunette started writhing with the movement, "that's it, good girl," she whispered as Andy moaned and writhed beneath her.

"Oh, oh God," Andy cried in between panting for breath, "I think I'm close.."

She was indeed close as Miranda could feel her clit pulsating beneath her fingers, she leaned her body down and captured one of Andy's breasts in her mouth and started sucking and flicking the nipple with her tongue all whilst maintaining the rhythm of her fingers.

Andy grabbed Miranda's head and gently held it close to her breast as she started to shudder, she cried out "Miranda!"

Miranda picked up the pace with her fingers and the girl started to violently convulse as she screamed out the Editors name.

After a few moments Andy flopped back on the bed and tried to regain her breath.

"Well," Miranda said as she licked her finger clean, "that wasn't what I expected."

Andy grinned, "no, me neither.."

Miranda looked around the bedroom, "do you mind some company for the night?"

Andy sat up and looked at the Editor, "if you think I'm done with you, you're quite mistaken!"


	28. Chapter 28

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>To say that Andy woke up would be generous, she'd more describe it as coming to. She'd been laying on her front hugging an impossibly soft pillow to her naked chest when one disobedient eye flickered open. The room was lit up by the bedside table light and Andy squinted to see the time on the clock below the lamp, it was early, too early to be awake. With a sigh Andy let go of the pillow and rolled over to attempt to go back to sleep.<p>

After a few disorientated seconds she began to realise that the bed was moving ever so slightly and as she cracked open an eyelid to survey the bed she gasped in surprise. Miranda Priestly was in her bed. And then it came back to her. The previous night, Miranda coming into her room, the amazing sex and the incredible orgasm followed by more sex and then gentle cuddles before they both finally succumbed to sleep.

An enormous smile crept across her face at the memories of the previous night and she began to piece together the details including why felt sore but oh so good. She looked at Miranda who was laying on her back with one arm above her head and the other across her stomach. Although a sheet half covered her Andy could tell she was completely naked but the thing that made her smile the most was the look of complete peace and happiness on the older woman's face.

Any thoughts of sleep completely evaded Andy as her mind raced about what had happened and what might happen in the future. As she had so many times before she felt the strong desire to document events and her accompanying feelings and so she gently crept from the bed and retrieved her latest journal and pen from the desk. She gently climbed back into bed and fervently started quietly writing.

* * *

><p>Miranda could not remember the last time she slept so well however waking up was an odd arrangement to say the least. She was used to waking up gently by her sun clock which slowly illuminated the room and thus woke her up without the need for any high pitched electronic device. As Miranda often woke up when it was still dark outside this gradual and gentle introduction to light was much appreciated.<p>

So it was with surprise that she awoke to a bright bedside table lamp glowing in her eyes. The surprise only increased when she realised she was naked and not in her nightgown as was usually the case. As Miranda's eyes adjusted to the room she realised she wasn't in her bedroom at all, she was in the guestroom. And then it came back to her. The previous night, coming down to the guestroom, the sex, the orgasms, who knew one could have so many different types?

She could hear the unmistakable sound of a fountain pen scratching its way across a sheet of paper and realised that her lover was already awake and no doubt documenting every single fragment of the previous night's activities.

Without turning around to face the young woman she softly whispered, "don't forget the part where you dragged me to the edge of the bed and had your way with me as you knelt on the carpet."

Without missing a beat Andy replied, "done that bit, I'm onto the bit where you proclaimed to have no idea what you were doing just before I passed out from the pleasure."

"Hmm," Miranda sniffed, "yes, don't so that again, I was most concerned."

"I was only out for a second and it's entirely your fault," Andy pointed out.

Miranda turned around and brought the sheet up to cover her breasts, "I was most concerned," she reiterated.

Andy nodded seriously, "I'll try my best.."

Miranda seemed satisfied with this and nodded, "what time is it?"

"Half past nine," Andy replied, "I let you sleep, sorry if that was wrong?"

"Half past nine," Miranda repeated with wonder, "I don't think I've ever slept until then, unless I was unwell."

"You must have been very tired, exhausted, even," Andy said with a small smile.

"Yes, I wonder why," Miranda asked as she sat up in bed, "I need to go and get dressed and pick the girls up from the airport."

Andy nodded, "do you want me to come? Or would that be weird? That would be weird wouldn't it?"

"I'll go alone," Miranda said evenly, "I pick them up rather than sending a car for them as.. they have missed me and it's nice for them to see me sooner."

Andy hid a small grin but Miranda noticed it.

"Do you have something you'd like to say?" Miranda questioned dangerously.

"Not at all, it's very nice of you to do that.. for the girls," Andy replied evenly.

Miranda reached down to the side of the bed and captured her previously discarded white silk robe. Andy took the opportunity to get another glimpse of the older woman's ass and smiled with satisfaction. Miranda put the robe on while trying to cover her modesty as much as possible and Andy made a point of looking like she hadn't noticed, if Miranda was going to suddenly be shy then Andy wasn't going to push the issue now.

"You will be here when I get back, I assume?" Miranda hastily added the second part of the sentence when she realised she sounded like she was giving the woman an order.

Andy frowned and nodded, "of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Miranda stood up and tied the robe firmly around her waist as she looked away from the brunette, "just checking.. you may have had second thoughts."

Andy knew that she was supposed to leap out of bed and place her arms around the troubled woman and assure her that nothing was further from her mind but instead she just laughed out loud and Miranda turned to look at her in surprise.

"Second thoughts," Andy laughed again, "after last night I'm never letting you go!"

Miranda grinned, "yes, well," she said in satisfaction, "I will go and get the girls.."

Andy watched as the older woman left the room, paying particular attention to the perfect white legs and smiled as she continued to write in her journal.


	29. Chapter 29

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **Please note the rating change** - This chapter is very much an M ... naughty scenes lay ahead. Skip if you are offended.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>Miranda and the girls had a tradition. Whenever they returned from a trip without Miranda she would be there to pick them up from the train station or the airport, she would never send the car. And, after hugs had been exchanged, she would take the girls for ice cream, well, frozen yoghurt. The girls would both have giant pots of ice cream with as many toppings as they liked, as long as one of them was fruit based, and Miranda would occasionally steal a bite or two from both of them.<p>

"So is Andy in the guestroom?" Caroline asked as she demolished another bite of her strawberry frozen yoghurt.

"No," Miranda said as she swiped a quick bite, "I put her in your room, you're in Patricia's bed."

"Mom!" Caroline smiled at being ribbed by her mother.

"OF course she's in the guestroom, silly!" Cassidy said with a familial roll of the eyes.

"I dunno," Caroline said, "she might be in Stephen's old room!"

Miranda frowned, "why would she be there, Bobbsey?"

"In case you need to keep an eye on her," Caroline said, "because of her memory and stuff."

Miranda nodded, "I see. No, she is in the guestroom. She is quite well, just without her memories."

"But she'll remember us?" Caroline asked.

"No," Cassidy sighed, "why would she remember us?"

"Be nice," Miranda told Cassidy as she pinched a bite of chocolate frozen yoghurt.

"I just can't see how she can forget everything, how does that happen?" Caroline asked Miranda.

"It's complicated," Miranda sighed softly, "the brain is a very complicated part of the body and we don't properly understand it yet. Sometimes things happen to the brain and we don't know why. But in answer to your question, no, Andréa won't remember you."

"Will she remember us after she's met us?" Cassidy asked, "like, will she forget us again? Will we have to be telling her who we are every morning?"

Miranda smiled, "no, Bobbsey, she remembers everything that has happened after her accident. She just can't remember before it."

"Does she know what happened to her?" Cassidy continued.

"No," Miranda replied as she picked up a small piece of strawberry from Cassidy's container and popped it into her mouth, "she only remembers when she woke up after the accident."

Cassidy nodded and concentrated on her food while she processed that information.

"That must be scary," Caroline started.

"Yes, it was," Miranda said as she picked up a piece of cookie from Caroline's container, "which is why we have to be the best we can be to make her feel at home and safe and welcome."

Caroline nodded and Cassidy looked up, "but why is she staying with us?"

"Because she doesn't have anyone else," Miranda said simply hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

"I don't get it, why us though?" Cassidy continued much to Miranda disappointment.

"Because," Miranda said as she picked another bite of yoghurt from Cassidy.

"That's not an answer," Cassidy pushed.

"That's the one you're getting," Miranda said pointedly but kindly.

Caroline looked up from her yoghurt, "can we go down into the guestroom and see her?"

"Why would you want to do that Bobbsey?" Miranda questioned.

"Because if she spends more time with us she might remember us and that would be good for her because then she might remember other things," Caroline said with childlike simplicity.

Miranda nodded, "I see your thinking," she paused as she decided on the wording of what she wanted to say, "but it's unlikely that her memory will come back that way, she may never remember. We need to focus on making good memories rather than trying to resurrect the old ones."

Caroline nodded and Miranda took another small spoonful of yoghurt.

"Why don't you get one for yourself, Mom?" Caroline asked.

"I don't want one," Miranda said, "I just want a little something as I didn't have breakfast this morning."

"Why didn't you have breakfast this morning?" Cassidy asked and both twins looked at her in confusion.

"I slept i.. well, I mean I slept badly and I was working and time got away from me," Miranda found herself explaining to four blue eyes all staring at her.

Luckily they were satisfied with that and continued with their yoghurt. Miranda looked at both of them and wondered how she would broach the topic of her and Andréa with them. And in the meantime she and Andréa had to try to make everything appear normal, until such time as the girls had settled back in and potentially gotten used to the idea. She wondered how she would manage to keep her hands off of Andréa for the next couple of days and briefly considered moving her to Stephen's old room after all. But then that would present countless other problems and Miranda could feel her heart rate rising just considering it.

No, for now at least she and Andréa had to keep a respectable distance from each other and maintain the image of boss and ex-assistant. Somehow.


	30. Chapter 30

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>The front door to the town house burst open and two girls dragged in heavy holdalls while both simultaneously telling their mother a story of their trip. Andy had been making her way from the study to the kitchen when she heard the door open and immediately hid herself from sight behind the door but continued to watch them. Patricia, who had been sleeping on the floor in front of the sofa where Andy had been reading, had gotten up and quickly bounded into the hallway to greet the three family members.<p>

Miranda had just about managed to close the front door by the time Patricia had thrown herself into the girls and began nuzzling them with her large head while panting with excitement.

"Patricia, down," Miranda said firmly, "girls, take your bags upstairs."

"But Mom.." Cassidy started but the sentence died on her lips at the look her mother gave her.

Reluctantly both girls headed upstairs with their holdalls in tow and Miranda held on to Patricia's collar so she didn't get in the way. Once they were at the top of the stairs she released Patricia who quickly bounded after them and gave a small smile at the sounds of her girls playing with the overgrown teddy bear.

Andy took a step out from behind the door and smiled at Miranda who quickly crossed the hallway and, with one last glance to check the girls were out of sight, took Andy's face in her both hands and kissed her firmly.

Although she was surprised Andy returned the kiss and brought her hands up to mimic Miranda's hold on her own face. After a few moments Miranda broke the kiss and took a step back, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I've been thinking about you non-stop. I've been wondering how to act around you and the girls, how to tell them, what to say. I think we should be careful, try to act normal, although I don't know how I'm supposed to do that because none of this is normal, is it? I'm sure they will pick up on something, we'll have to be extra careful.."

"Whoa," Andy cut Miranda off by putting her hand gently on the Editor's chest, "calm down, it's okay.."

Miranda took a couple of deep breaths and nodded her agreement.

"Has something happened? Have the girls said anything?" Andy asked the obviously shaken woman.

"No," Miranda assured her, "I'm just concerned about them, I.. I can't explain it."

"You don't have to," Andy smiled her reassurance, "let's just see what happens.."

Miranda nodded and opened her mouth to speak again but quickly closed it again as she heard the distinctive sound of footsteps and heavy paws hammering down the stairs. She took a distancing step back from Andy just as the girls entered the room.

"Hey Andy!" Caroline started with a big smile, "wow your hair is well cool, isn't her hair cool, Mom?"

"Hey Andy," Cassidy smiled at the brunette.

"Hi girls," Andy smiled, "I'm glad you like my hair.. er..?"

"Caroline," Miranda supplied, "and yes Bobbsey, Andréa's new style is very fashionable."

"So, you can't tell us apart?" Cassidy asked with interest, "you used to be able to.."

Andy saw the mischievous grin and laughed, "I can't yet but I will!"

Cassidy grinned and exchanged a look with Caroline, "I got an A by the way," Caroline added.

"Oh," Andy said in confusion, "that's, er, that's great!"

Cassidy rolled her eyes, "she means you got an A, you did her maths project for her before Paris, she got an A for it. I got a B but I did my own project.."

"Girls," Miranda warned quietly.

"But Mom makes me do my own school work now," Caroline grumbled.

"Very wise," Andy nodded.

"So you don't remember us at all?" Cassidy asked with interest as she stared at Andy in fascination.

Andy bit her lip, "erm, no, I'm sorry, I don't.. but I know of you. I mean I know about you but I don't actually remember you."

Cassidy nodded, "do you remember anyone?"

"Cassidy," Miranda admonished but Andy shook her head and held her hand up.

"No, its fine, Miranda. I do remember some people, some of my memories seem to be coming back," Andy admitted, "but it's a slow process and maybe I won't get everything back."

"Mom said you remember Patricia," Caroline said with a smile as she cuddled the big dog's head to her chest.

Andy blushed and looked from Miranda to Patricia to Caroline, "er, yes, I did have a flashback of sorts.."

"Is it like the movies?" Cassidy asked, "is there like a flash of light and then you remember stuff?"

"What about a bang on the head?" Caroline added, "has anyone tried banging you on the head?"

"Yeah," Cassidy agreed, "that's what made you lose your memories, maybe that will bring them back, all those movies can't be wrong."

"Girls," Miranda said as she leaned back heavily on her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose, "no one is hitting Andréa on the head.."

"Fine," Cassidy sighed.

"I still think you should suggest it to her doctor," Caroline grumbled quietly.

Andy laughed, "I'll certainly mention it."

"So you don't remember how to play Mario?" Cassidy questioned in disappointment.

"Mario?" Andy questioned and Miranda looked at her in confusion.

"Did Andréa used to play games with you?" Miranda asked Cassidy.

"Sometimes, when she picked us up from school and you were working late," Cassidy said unsure, "was that okay?"

Three sets of human eyes and one pair of sad doggy eyes stared up in Miranda, "yes," she finally said, "yes, that's fine. I just didn't know, your nanny was here so why did Andréa stay, Bobbsey?"

"We asked her," Caroline filled in obviously, "Andy's cool."

Andy smiled smugly at Miranda and Miranda rolled her eyes.

"I don't remember Mario but I can learn!" Andy told the girls with a smile.

The girls happily ran from the study, "I'll get everything set up," one of them yelled over her shoulder.

Andy looked at Miranda with a smile, "I'm cool."

"Oh shut up," Miranda smiled.

"And my hair is well cool," Andy added as she strutted out of the room with a wink.


	31. Chapter 31

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>It was some hours later when Miranda hesitantly knocked on the door to the girls playroom and opened the door to enter. She hadn't seen the girls, Andy nor even Patricia since lunch time when they came downstairs to make sandwiches to take back to the playroom with them. Miranda had spent some time sending emails, working on the book, reading, rearranging her shoes and eventually decided she had to see what was happening.<p>

"Hey Mom," the girls both said in unison without looking away from the television screen where some female character was swinging from building to building in a dark looking city. Andy was sat on the edge of an armchair leaning forward with the controller to the games console in her hands and animatedly leaning in the direction of the character as she mashed buttons on the keypad.

"Andy is Catwoman!" Caroline said excitedly from a beanbag on the floor whilst watching every move of the character.

"She's running away from a group of thugs," Cassidy added from the sofa with a discarded controller beside her, "she's managed to get the pearls and now she needs to escape!"

Miranda frowned, "thugs? Who bought you this game?"

"You did, don't you remember?" Cassidy said with a sigh.

Miranda would have thought about it in more depth but she seemed to be suddenly consumed with the image of the brunette as Catwoman. Miranda wasn't a big fan of Batman but she had seen the posters of recent movies and she had to admit the thought of Andy in that outfit was delightfully stimulating.

"It's a T rating, I checked," Andy said without taking her eyes off of the television while holding the controller out in front of her and angling it from side to side as her character leapt between buildings.

"I see," Miranda said quietly not sure what a T rating was but thankful that the young woman was looking out for her girls.

"You're nearly there, go to that cat mark!" Caroline said excitedly as she pointed to the television.

"Look out, use the whip!" Cassidy joined in and Miranda felt a small blush creep up to her cheeks as her mind ran rampage with a new image.

Andy stood up from the armchair and gestured wildly with the controller, Miranda was quite unsure what was going on but the build-up of excitement in the room was clearly an indication that the woman was winning. Suddenly all three burst into cheers and started jumping around the room in excitement and hugged each other.

"Awesome, Andy!" Caroline beamed, "we've unlocked all the playing cards now, amazing!"

"You're welcome, that was fun!" Andy replied with a beaming smile as she looked over Cassidy's head towards Miranda, "however, it's probably time we did something else, something with your Mom maybe?"

Miranda almost looked embarrassed as the girls seemed to struggle to think of something to do with her, "I was going to take Patricia to the park, then we could stop by Carlo's and have dinner?"

The girls both nodded excitedly and Miranda instructed them to go and get changed into warmer clothes for the walk in the park. As they girls left the room Andy turned off the games console and the television and turned to face Miranda, "sorry if we were up here too long, I lost track of time, I didn't mean to neglect you.."

"Oh, it's quite all right," Miranda said dismissively, "as you can probably tell, it's rare that the girls and I do anything together. They are very adept at entertaining themselves."

Andy nodded, "true, but are you?"

Miranda blushed slightly at the inference that felt excluded somehow, "I'm a grown woman, Andréa, I have work to do. Unfortunately I don't have time to play games and such."

"Well, that's going to change," Andy said with certainty, "I'm going to change my shoes."

The brunette brushed past Miranda depositing a small kiss on her cheek as she passed by and left Miranda standing in the playroom with Patricia staring up at her with big brown eyes.


	32. Chapter 32

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>What an emotional rollercoaster of a day! The twins are great, I can't believe I was worried about meeting them because it seemed like after a couple of minutes we were all best of friends. Thank you for a misspent youth playing on games consoles because that totally helped me beat Cassidy at Mario and then Caroline at all the retro games. But it seems I am awesome at being Catwoman, I raced through the levels where the girls had been stuck and it was so great to be able to get to know them more while playing games.<strong>_

I think I can tell them apart a little better now but it will take some practice to have it really nailed. Cassidy, as I have said previously in my journals, is more responsible and serious and a lot more like her mother. Caroline has retained more of her childlike curiosity and innocence. The look in their eyes and the tones of their voices is the way I can tell them apart at the moment but I think with practice I'll find other methods.

We played for hours and Cassidy told me about her problems at school, seems she was failing some of the verbal assignments when her teacher had sussed that she was not doing her own homework or project work. She had a steep learning curve to get things back on track but she's doing much better now but is really struggling with English. I told her to speak with Miranda as she's an editor but Cassidy seemed uncertainly. Caroline seems more interested in boys! I've been sworn to secrecy about the details of her latest crush.

While it is obvious the girls adore Miranda it's also clear that they believe Miranda has little time for them which makes me so sad. I know Miranda would do anything for the girls, even at the expense of Runway work. But I don't think the girls know that. It's a stalemate situation where Miranda doesn't want to impose herself on them and they don't wish to impose on her. Leaving them both miserable to be left out!

I want to talk to Miranda about this but then I really don't want to overstep any boundaries, I don't want her to think I am questioning her parenting skills

Andy stopped writing as she heard a noise outside the bedroom door, "Patricia?"

The door opened and Miranda walked in with a sigh as she quietly muttered, "you and that bloody dog.."

Andy beamed in happiness and quickly put the pen and the journal on the bedside table and slid off of the bed, "oh shush, Patricia's been down here a few times so I thought it was her again, I'm very pleased to see it's you."

Andy closed the bedroom door and wrapped her arms around Miranda and pulled her into a close embrace. Neither woman had gotten ready for bed despite the late hour. It wasn't long before Miranda turned her head in the embrace and started kissing Andy's long neck.

With a giggle Andy whispered, "I thought we weren't doing this?"

Miranda nipped at her neck and then kissed the same spot before working her way down towards Andy's chest. Andy sighed with pleasure as Miranda repositioned her hands so one came around Andy's front and began to gently kneed at her breast through the material of her blouse. The other hand slid beneath the fabric covering Andy's back and before long she was caressing the skin on Andy's lower back.

With almighty willpower she didn't know she possessed Andy pulled away, "wait.."

Miranda looked up at her with an almost annoyed look on her face as she panted to get her breath back, "I changed my mind," she said matter-of-factly and made a move to kiss Andy but the young woman took a step back.

"You were adamant you wanted us to act normal and now you're down here and.. well.. if you don't stop yourself I won't be able to stop myself.." Andy said honestly.

"That's just it, I don't want to stop," Miranda said as she dragged a hand through her hair and turned away from Andy to pace the room, "I don't know what has come over me, I'm obsessed, with you!"

Miranda waved her hand in Andy's direction and Andy smiled at the fact she didn't know if it was meant as a compliment or an insult but allowed Miranda to continue anyway.

"I can't stop thinking about last night, I have never, never, felt like that," Miranda stopped pacing and stared at Andy with sincerity, "never."

Andy smiled, "that's good.."

Miranda sighed and turned around, "I don't think I'm making myself clear. I.." she paused and looked up at the ceiling as she struggled for the words, "I.. have obviously had sex in the past," she turned around and looked pointedly at Andy, "clearly you have seen the evidence."

Andy nodded slowly attempting to not say anything that might interrupt the older woman's flow.

Miranda looked away at the curtains and then back to the ceiling, anywhere but Andy's eyes as she considered her words, "but.. well.. I've never.. actually, enjoyed sex. It was just something to please my husband. I'd always assumed I was just not a sexual person," she turned to look at Andy again, "I didn't need, crave or even want sex. It was a duty. Nothing more."

Andy nodded her understanding again.

"But then, last night," Miranda spun around and began pacing the room again, "last night, I've never felt, never wanted something so much, it was a revelation to me. I can't get it out of my mind, you've awoken something in me," she sat on the bed as she stared at the carpet and struggled to explain, "I enjoyed, no, not enjoyed, I.. needed, it. You. I needed you. And I need you again, now."

She leapt to her feet with a fire in her eyes as she stalked closer to Andy, "I need you, I need to feel what I felt yesterday, I can't stop myself. I feel like I'm on fire, that's how strong this need, this desire for you, for your body is.."

Andy smiled as she leaned behind her and locked the bedroom door, "you'll have to be quieter than you were last night," she winked before taking a confident step forward and enveloping Miranda in her arms and pulling her face towards her for a deep kiss.


	33. Chapter 33

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>Andy woke up with a jolt, that jolt you experience when you know you have dramatically overslept. The jolt that comes as a result of your external stimuli being aware of so many things around you, the mid-morning sun, the birds singing, the distant sounds of life but your mind still being deep in slumber. Andy jolted into absolute consciousness immediately and sat up in bed to look around the room and get her bearings as soon as possible.<p>

The bedding was in complete disarray and she could feel her hair was a mess and she was still wearing her makeup, well, some of it anyway. She glanced at the bedside table alarm clock and noticed the numbers were obscured by a piece of folded paper. She picked up the paper and as she unfolded it glanced at the clock to see that it was, to her horror, ten in the morning. Looking back at the paper she saw the words 'check your phone' in perfect scripted handwriting which she presumed was Miranda's.

She noticed her phone was across the room and got out of bed to fetch it, as soon as she stood up she immediately felt her body twitch and ache indicating that there had been one hell of a work out the previous night. Some of the memories came flooding back to her and she smiled a satisfied grin as she picked up the phone and activated the screen, there were ten messages.

Her eyes went wide and she quickly started to access them, first the ones from Miranda.

**I didn't want to wake you when I left this morning as it is so early. I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night, I don't want you to feel that I am only using you for physical satisfaction.**

Andy smiled and scrolled to the next message.

**That's not to say that the physical satisfaction was not enormously satisfying, of course.**

Andy walked over to the bed and sat back down as she scrolled again.

**But I really think that we should try to keep an appropriate distance, for the sake of the girls. I know that I insisted last night but I really think it is for the best if we take some time out.**

Andy nodded to herself as she scrolled again.

**That's not to say a complete termination of all activities, of course. A line will need to be drawn somewhere, certainly quieter activities will be permitted as you were rather loud last night.**

Andy rolled her eyes at the dubious accusation as she had managed to stay very quiet as her mouth was otherwise occupied for the majority of the evening, it was Miranda who had been loud to the point where Andy had suggested using her panties as a gag. She shook her head and scrolled down some more.

**Okay, I understand the silent treatment is because the last message may have come across like I was insinuating that only you were making noise when of course I was also involved. We both contributed to the sound levels that caused Patricia to howl, agreed?**

Andy shook her head at the device, she most certainly did not agree.

**Are you ignoring me? Really Andréa! I am going into a design meeting and when I get back I hope to have a reply from you.**

With a smile Andy scrolled down and noticed that twenty two minutes had passed since the previous message.

**Andréa, darling, I hope I haven't upset you with my behaviour last night? Was it too much?**

Andy frowned and quickly scrolled down to read the next message.

**Are you asleep? It is five to ten are you actually still asleep?**

Andy laughed out loud and quickly began typing a message back to the older woman.

**I just woke up, someone exhausted me so much last night I just slept right thought my alarm, wonder why? Your behaviour last night was perfect, I love your wild side! If you wish to maintain a distance for the sake of the girls then I will absolutely help you with that but God help me if you come to my room in the night again I won't be able to stop myself.**

After she sent that message she checked the other two, one was from Caroline and one was form Cassidy both advising her of their mobile numbers and both asking if she would watch a movie with them that evening. With a smile she replied to them both separately to say that she'd love to.


	34. Chapter 34

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>Five days had passed and it was Friday evening and Andy was sat on the sofa in the playroom watching Frozen with the girls for the third time that week. Sometimes she wished she could control her memory loss so she could actively forget some of the slower aspects of the film.<p>

Still despite the repetition of the event she was loving spending time with the girls and they had slipped into a nice pattern over the course of the week. Every day Andy would walk through New York trying to reacquaint herself with the city and go through the boxes of her belongings to try to shake out some more memories. In the afternoon the girls would come home from school and immediately do their homework before asking Andy to check over their work. Once she was satisfied they would play games until Miranda got home and then they would all eat dinner together.

After the meal they would sit at the dining table and share stories about the day before moving to the upstairs living room to watch some television. Then the girls would get ready for bed and Miranda and Andy would tuck them in and wish them sweet dreams. Then in the silence of the hallway Miranda would wish Andy goodnight with a gentle kiss on the cheek and Andy would return to the guestroom.

Andy would then wait for half an hour to an hour before a sheepish Miranda would quietly knock on the door to the guestroom and proclaim that her previous instructions to be more distant were said in the heat of the moment. On Tuesday night they made love in a much gentler way to the previous two nights but with the same mind-blowing results. On Wednesday night they simply held each other and on Thursday night Miranda was like a woman possessed as she had her way with Andy over and over again.

Every morning Miranda would rise early and return to her bedroom to give the impression to the girls that she had awoken there. She would get ready for work and the girls would get ready for school and on the town car journey to the office Miranda would text Andy to say that they really should keep their distance, for the sake of the girls.

Luckily Andy found the whole thing quite comical and often told Miranda just that, for which she was rewarded with a pursing of the lips and the silent treatment but it never lasted for long as Miranda knew that the girl was right.

Caroline and Cassidy both laid out on the soft rug on the floor humming along to the song currently playing for the fifth time, the danger of allowing Caroline to pick the film and have the remote control. Andy stretched out on the sofa and looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that Miranda was running late, just as she thought about this she felt her phone vibrate in her jeans pocket.

"Hi Nigel," Andy said as she answered the call and quickly excused herself into the hallway to not interrupt the film.

"Hi Andy, how are you?" Nigel asked.

"I'm good," Andy replied briefly as she got the impression that Nigel wasn't just calling to chat.

"Everything's fine but I'm with Miranda at the hospital," Nigel got to the point straight away.

Andy felt the blood drain from her face and put her hand out to steady herself on the wall but before she could say anything Nigel continued, "she's fine but she's twisted her ankle, it's pretty bad. She wanted me to let you know that she's going to be late and you should eat without her."

After a couple of deep breaths Andy managed to reply, "okay, but she's all right? Yes?"

She could hear Nigel's smile down the line, "yes, well, she's being a witch to the doctor because she's in pain and can hardly walk but she's absolutely fine. She needs to keep off of it for a few days and then she'll be back to normal."

"Right," Andy said as she gathered her thoughts, "okay, right, I'll tell the girls.."

"Andy?" Nigel said.

"Yes?" Andy answered blankly.

"She's fine, don't worry," Nigel soothed.

Andy smiled and nodded, "yes, yes, sorry, I just thought the worse. Thanks for letting me know, Nigel."

"No problem, Hun. I'll see you in a little while when we get back from the hospital, okay?" Nigel replied.

"Okay, see you soon, thanks again," Andy said as she hung up the phone and leaned heavily on the wall and took a few more calming breaths before walking back into the playroom.

"Caroline, could you pause the film?" Andy asked and Caroline nodded and paused Elsa mid-flow.

Twin eyes stared up at her with concern, they could obviously tell that Andy had news for them.

"Everything is fine but your Mom is going to be home a little late, she's twisted her ankle and she's at the hospital," Andy said calmly and evenly so as not to concern them.

"How did she do that?" Cassidy asked with concern.

"I don't know," Andy replied as she sat back on the sofa, "all I know is that Nigel is with her and that her ankle hurts and she's having trouble walking on it."

"Ouch," Caroline said with a wince, "poor Mom.."

Cassidy nodded, "is there anything we can do?"

Andy was thinking the same thing, "I'm not sure, having a house with so many stairs isn't ideal, but we can't really make up a bed anywhere on the ground floor."

"No," Cassidy agreed, "there's no room down there."

"Unless we put her on the dining room table," Caroline giggled and Cassidy and Andy smiled at the thought.

"No, probably not a great idea," Andy laughed.

"You should sleep in Mom's room," Cassidy said simply, "you know, so she doesn't have to go all the way down to the guestroom at night."

For the second time in five minutes Andy felt the blood leave her face and sat in mute silence. Luckily the girls weren't looking at her but were looking at each other as Caroline nodded to her sister, "yeah, that would be easier for her and then Andy can help her get undressed and stuff."

Cassidy nodded and looked back at Andy, "what do you think, Andy? Should we move your stuff into Mom's room? It would be so much easier.."

Andy simply nodded her agreement with wide eyes.

"Cool, we'll do it after dinner," Cassidy said matter-of-factly.

"Which we'll eat after we've watched the end of Frozen," Caroline said as she unpaused the television.

The girls turned to face the screen and immediately became immersed in the storyline again but all Andy could do was stare at them in wonderment. They knew, they'd known all along. And they didn't care, in fact they were happy to help Andy move her stuff into Miranda's bedroom. Andy briefly wondered how they knew and how much they knew but decided to push those thoughts out of her brain, probably better left not knowing she decided.


	35. Chapter 35

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>In the hope of avoiding the end of the film Andy had excused herself and gone down to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She absently fetched ingredients and utensils as she thought about what the girls had said, they knew Miranda went down to her room every night but what else did they know. Were they old enough or savvy enough to know why, even if not the full gory details of their mother's sex life did they have an understanding? Were they okay with it because they misunderstood and thought they were playing card games? Andy stirred a large saucepan of pasta as she anxiously stared into nothing.<p>

"Andy?" Cassidy asked as she walked into the kitchen to find the brunette staring off into the distance.

Andy jumped slightly, "oh, sorry, Cassidy, I was miles away.."

Cassidy smiled, "no problem, do you want any help with dinner?"

Andy nodded, "could you lay the table?"

With a nod Cassidy started retrieving bowls and cutlery and setting them up on the table, "are you worried about Mom?"

"A little," Andy admitted as she adjusted the heat on the hob, "Cassidy, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Andy," Cassidy said as she got a jug of cold water from the fridge.

"I.. I assume you know, I mean, you know about me and your Mom?" Andy cringed at how awkward she sounded but she just had to know that she had interpreted the comments from earlier correctly.

Cassidy laughed with a smile, "yeah, it's hard to miss!"

"I'm going to regret this," Andy said with a sigh, "how did you know?"

Cassidy leaned against the doorway to the hallway and started counting on her fingers, "well, let's start with the fact that Mom is happy, like always, Mom is never always this happy. You two can't stop staring at each other, you both have messed up hair and makeup, like, all the time. You smell of each other's perfumes and Mom is well rubbish at creeping down the stairs, she always steps on the creaky floorboard."

Andy held her hand up, "okay, okay, I get the picture, we're.. well rubbish.. at being discreet," Andy took the saucepan off of the heat to give Cassidy her full attention, "what I suppose I really need to know is, are you two okay with this? I know this could be awkward for you and.. well, I just, I really want to.."

Cassidy rushed over to the tall brunette and hugged her hard and Andy brought her arms around the young girl with surprise. At that moment Caroline walked into the kitchen and looked at the scene in front of her with surprise, "Cass?"

Cassidy slightly let of her hold on Andy and turned to face her sister, "Andy wants to know if we're okay with her and Mom being together."

Caroline beamed from ear to ear as she came to join in the hug, "of course we are, you're so cool!"

Andy laughed out loud in surprise and delight, "you two are the ones who are so cool," she laughed as she hugged the two girls tightly.

Caroline broke the hug, "you make Mom really happy and when we're all together it's so great."

Cassidy stood back as well and continued, "yeah, before you were here we hardly saw Mom at all."

"We hardly ever had dinner together," Caroline added.

Andy could feel her cheeks hurting from smiling so much as she breathed out a sigh of relief, "well we can change all that, I'm just so happy that you girls are okay with this," she wiped at a happy tear that had fallen down her cheek, "right, enough of all this soppiness! Let's eat dinner!"


	36. Chapter 36

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
><strong>

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

* * *

><p>Later that evening Andy was filling the dishwasher when she heard the sound of the front door opening, she quickly wiped her hands on a towel and rushed to the hallway.<p>

In the hallway Nigel and Roy were stood either side of the Editor, clearly wanting to help but also knowing that help would not be appreciated. Roy held Miranda's handbag and had clearly been the one to open the front door and now he was stood looking like he desperately wanted to escape as soon as possible. Nigel was holding the book and stood beside Miranda with one hand out ready to catch her at any point.

Miranda was on crutches with one bandaged foot off of the ground and one good foot encased in a flat shoe which was probably killing her on the inside. She looked exhausted and in pain and had no doubt been demonstrating both emotions to their fullest if the faces of her male companions was anything to go by.

"Miranda, are you okay?" Andy said as she crossed the hall.

Miranda pursed her lips in displeasure before replying, "why, Andréa, of course I'm perfectly well. I'm simply trialling a new fashion range for the lame, I think the crutches could do with a little more sparkle but other than that it's simply magnificent."

Andy rolled her eyes and took the handbag from Roy, "thank you, Roy, I'll take it from here," she said and smiled to herself as the driver excused himself with great speed.

The girls both came running down the stairs to greet their mother and Miranda accepting gentle hugs from each of them as she explained that she had misplaced her foot on a step and twisted her ankle. The girls were full of questions and Miranda patiently tried to answer them as best as she could.

While all of this was happening Andy took a closer step to Nigel and whispered, "how bad is she?"

"Dreadful," Nigel whispered back, "the doctor told her to stay off it for a week, no less," with a smile Nigel added, "Miranda was testing her crutches at the time, he nearly had a second spine inserted."

Andy smothered a smile, "thank you for being with her, I know she appreciates it."

Nigel handed the book over and pointed at the handbag, "she has two types of pain medication in there that she must take or she'll be unbearable."

Andy raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Miranda's back and Nigel shook his head, "this is nothing, she's positively happy at the moment, you should have seen her before the medication."

"What are you two whispering about back there?" Miranda suddenly asked and swivelled on her crutches to address the two guilty looking faces.

"Nothing," they both said in unison and Miranda pursed her lips in displeasure again.

"As I said in the car, Miranda," Nigel said with seriousness, "I will handle everything, contact me for whatever you need and I will get it done. I promise you that Runway will be fine, the issue will go out perfect as always but obviously decidedly mediocre without your presence."

Miranda smiled, "thank you, Nigel.."

Nigel approached the older woman and gave her a gently kiss on the cheek before turning to leave, as he got to the door he turned around and looked at Miranda, "oh, and don't forget about the other thing either."

"Yes, yes," she muttered and waved him away.

"What other thing?" Andy asked once he had closed the door.

"Nothing of importance," Miranda said with a sigh, "girls, it's time for bed."

The twins both groaned their displeasure and Miranda swivelled back to face them, "do not make today more difficult for me than it already has been," she whispered with a venomous tone, "bed. Now."

Any sign that the girls were going to argue instantly faded and they both muttered a goodnight to Andy and ran up two flights of stairs to their rooms. Once the doors were slammed shut Andy walked in front of Miranda, "I know you're in pain but they waited up to see you, they were very worried about you.."

"There's been a leak, at Runway," Miranda cut the brunette off quickly, "my people are holding back the story for now but it will be everywhere within a few hours."

Andy blinked as her mind struggled to catch up, "what story?"

Miranda rolled her eyes and approached the stairs on her crutches, "oh for Gods sake, Andréa, do keep up."

Andy placed the book and the bag on a table and approached the stairs to where Miranda was slowly making her way up the stairs. She reached out to Miranda in an attempt to help the older woman but Miranda pulled away, "don't touch me, I don't need to fall again!"

Closing her eyes and counting to ten Andy remained on the bottom step and allowed the older woman to make her own way up the stairs. When she opened her eyes Miranda was almost at the top and Andy shook her head and went back to the kitchen to continue filling the dishwasher.

After a few moments she heard the sound of the twins' voices and she walked into the hallway and looked up through the landing to listen carefully for what was being said. She could hear the girls hesitantly telling Miranda of the get well card they had made her and after a few moments she could hear Miranda thanking them and sending them back off to bed. The girls went up towards their bedrooms but Caroline looked down and noticed Andy looking up at them, with a sad face she waved silently to Andy and Andy returned the wave with a forced smile.

"Andréa, where is the book?" Miranda called out and Andy picked up the book from the table in front of her. She started to climb the stairs and she could hear Miranda muttering about never being able to find anything. She looked up at the girls' faces looking down at her and gave them another tight, forced smile. She was almost at the top of the stairs when Miranda stepped out of the living room and stared at her.

Andy stopped. It was like she had been punched in the stomach as all the air left her lungs and she fell to her knees on the stairs. The memory came flooding back to her, her first night delivering the book. The girls convincing her to climb the stairs. Miranda arguing with Stephen. The look. The look that had terrified her so much. But this wasn't her journal's recollection of an event. This was her memory of the event. Sudden and all consuming.

The book fell and bounced its way down the stairs with pieces of paper falling everywhere. Andy raised a hand to her head in a pointless effort to calm the throbbing pain in her temple as the memory scorched its way across her mind. Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear Miranda's terrified voice calling her name and the sound of the girls running down the stairs towards her sounded like nothing more than Patricia's fluffy tail thudding onto the thick pile carpet of the playroom.

And then it went dark.


	37. Chapter 37

**Title**: Jean Dupont

**Rating**: M **  
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**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them now and then

**Summary**: A year after Paris fashion week Miranda and Andrea meet again but life has taken a dramatic turn for Andrea and now she needs Miranda to help get her life back together again.

**Notes**: So here is the final chapter of this story. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reviewed and messaged me along the way. I really appreciate all the comments and am glad that you enjoyed it.

* * *

><p>"Is she breathing?"<p>

"I think so.."

"Should I call 911, Mom?"

"I don't know, Bobbsey. Is she breathing, Cassidy?"

"Yeah, yeah I think she is.."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know, Caroline.."

"She's opening her eyes.."

"Give her some space, Cassidy.."

For a moment Andy thought she was seeing double but then she realised both twins were kneeling over her and looking down at her with concern. In the background she could see Miranda looking over the bannister rail with her hands tightly gripping onto the wooden rail. Andy scrunched her eyes shut and then opened them again in an attempt to focus.

"I'm okay," she whispered to the concerned faces as she tried to sit up, suddenly noticing how uncomfortable stairs were to lay on.

"Be careful, Andréa," Miranda called down the stairs, her voice laced with worry.

"I'm fine, I just tripped," Andy lied and made eye contact with Miranda in an attempt to get her to play along.

Miranda opened her mouth to reply but closed it again as she understood the meaning behind the look in Andy's eyes. Andy sat up on her knees and looked at the twin girls, "I'm fine, I'm sorry I scared you both.."

Caroline wrapped her arms around Andy's neck, "I thought you were dead!"

Andy laughed, "no, just clumsy, Sweetie.."

"You held your head before you fell," Cassidy pointed out, ever the observant one.

"Did I?" Andy said nonchalantly, "how weird.."

"Would you mind all removing yourself from the staircase, I don't wish to spend more time in the ER this evening," Miranda drawled as she reached down to pick up her discarded crutches.

The girls separated and allowed Andy to climb the stairs and then followed her up to ensure she made it to the landing safely. From there Miranda gave the brunette a visual examination to assure herself that the girl was not badly injured from whatever it was that had occurred.

Andy gave Miranda a quick look to stop her from her intensive examination and then turned to the twins, "thank you for rushing down to help me, I'll try to be less clumsy in the future, I promise," she drew both of them to her body and kissed each one on the head, "now, off to bed."

The girls nodded and slowly trudged away and up the stairs, all the while looking at Andy with concern. Once they were in their rooms Miranda whispered, "what happened? Are you okay? Your eyes, it looked like you had seen a ghost!"

"Shh," Andy said as she pointed upstairs, knowing full well that the twins would be listening, she would have been at their age. She pointed into the living room and Miranda nodded and manoeuvred her way into the room with her crutches. Andy followed closely behind and closed the door behind them.

"I had a memory," she said quietly once she turned around from the door to face Miranda.

"Not a good one," Miranda assumed with a pursing of the lips.

"No," Andy admitted.

"About me.." Miranda pushed.

"Yes," Andy said with a nod.

"I see," Miranda sighed and stared down at the floor, "and so it begins."

"No, Miranda.." Andy started.

"Tell me what it was? What did you remember?" Miranda interrupted.

Andy hesitated before capitulating, "it was the first time I delivered the book.."

Miranda frowned as she struggled to recall the memory.

"I came upstairs, you were talking with Stephen on the landing.."

With a cock of the head Miranda slowly nodded, "oh, yes, I think I recall.."

Andy laughed and Miranda looked surprised, "care to share what is so amusing, Andréa?"

"Oh nothing, it was just one of the single most terrifying events between us and it haunted my nightmares for years and it's one of the first memories to come back to me.. and you can barely remember it," Andy chuckled.

"Hysterical," Miranda sniffed and fidgeted uncomfortably on her crutches.

"Oh come on, it's a little bit funny," Andy pointed out.

"Actually," Miranda said as she limped towards an armchair and flopped into it, "it isn't even slightly funny. Not to echo Caroline's over excitable hysterics but I was also very worried about you. And now.. well, now I'm losing you.."

Andy quickly crossed the room and knelt on the floor in front of the older woman, careful not to bump her sprained ankle, "you are not losing me, Miranda."

Miranda snorted a laugh, "oh please, I saw the look on your face. Like the devil himself had come for you. Your first and, so far, only memory of me is as a monster," Miranda looked up at the ceiling with a sudden recollection, "and soon the story will break but it will be too late because it will all be over by then."

"What story? What is going on?" Andy asked with a frown.

"Us, Andréa," Miranda said as she made eye contact with the girl, "someone at Runway told the press that you are staying here. I don't know who but when I find them.."

"So what?" Andy asked with confusion.

Miranda looked exasperated, "so, the press think that.. that we're, that we're an item."

"Yes?" Andy pushed.

"And they'll publish it!" Miranda raised her voice.

"I don't see the problem," Andy said with a frown, "we are an item, are we not?"

Miranda stared at the girl in shock, "I realise I have said this before in jest but in seriousness now, Andréa.. Have you hit your pretty little head?"

"Probably, but my faculties are not impaired.. I love you. I think you love me. I have no intention of ending things with you just because of some stupid memory from years ago. Yes it was scary, yes it brought back a lot of old feelings of fear but they are just that, old feelings. I've replaced those feelings with something so much more precious and vivid," she reached up and stroked Miranda's cheek with the back of her hand.

Miranda stared at Andy with bewilderment, "b..but.."

"But nothing," Andy smiled gently, "there will be plenty more memories like that, I'm sure. But nothing that I haven't already read about from my journals. And the new memories I have created in the last couple of weeks are worth more than all of them. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Andy leaned closer and sealed the promise with a soft kiss. When she leaned back Miranda still had her eyes closed for a few moments before she opened them to reveal damp eyes.

"So.. you, so you don't mind the press story? They'll be vicious, Andréa, they'll tell you my age. My real age, they'll call you a gold digger.."

"So what?" Andy smiled.

"So.. so it, well, it's.." Miranda drifted off as she realised she had no answer to that. She closed her mouth and analysed the situation before her eyes flashed up to meet Andy's, "the girls!"

"Ah, about that.." Andy said but Miranda wasn't listening.

"Oh, God, oh, the girls. They'll see it online, they'll be destroyed. It will be the divorce all over again.."

"Miranda.." Andy tried to calm the older woman.

"My poor girls, I should wake them now, tell them now, before they read about it online!" Miranda started to attempt to get up but Andy gently pushed her back into the soft armchair.

"Miranda, shut up and listen," Andy said firmly, "the girls know."

Miranda's face went from indignation at being told to shut up to panic as the words registered.

"They.. they.. know? Did you, did you tell them?" Miranda asked in confusion.

"No," Andy shook her head with a smile, "we both did, over the past few days, I think we've been rather obvious."

Miranda's face went ashen and Andy continued, "when I told the girls about your sprained ankle the first thing they suggested was that I move into your bedroom so you didn't have to go down to the guestroom every night."

With wide eyes Miranda put her head in her hands and Andy worried for a moment until she heard soft giggling from the Editor. Miranda looked up with red cheeks, "do they.."

Andy held her hand up, "why don't we just hold it there? Do you really want to know what they know? Or would you rather be in blissful ignorance?"

Miranda thought about it for a second, "blissful ignorance.."

"Good girl," Andy said as she kissed Miranda's hand, "one more thing.."

"Yes?" Miranda looked at Andy with exhausted eyes.

"I know your real age, no one is buying that Wikipedia page, Darling.."


End file.
